


we raise our voices and let our hearts take flight, get higher than those planes can fly

by idkmandestiel



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, A lot of cursing, A mix between canon and alternate universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Baker!Danny, Baking, Charlie isn't in this, Danny-centric, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Former Detective Danny, Former Navy SEAL Steve, Friends to Lovers, Hawaii 5-0 - Freeform, Kono curses more than she breathes, M/M, Original Character(s), Protective Steve McGarrett, SEAL Steve McGarrett, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Steve owns a Surf Shop, Surf lingo, Surfing, and Danny is from NJ so what do you expect????, idiots to lovers, it says friends to lovers but they love each other the whole time really lol, like seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkmandestiel/pseuds/idkmandestiel
Summary: Former Detective Danny Williams moved to Hawaii after a knee injury left him permanently unable to be the detective he wanted to be; to be near his daughter is the only thing he wants now. Danny opened up a bakery, determined to make a life for himself and his daughter.Former Navy SEAL Steve McGarrett moved back home to Hawaii after his service is finished, and in an attempt to find a rush in the mediocracy of life, opens up a surf shop. Always near or in the water, Steve feels home.Along with Kono and Chin, the two men formed a quick and unbreakable friendship, and four years later, the bakery flourishes and the surf shop is always busy. But now, things are different.Now, the water is rough.(Work title: lyrics from song "100 Years" by Florence and The Machine)





	1. just a little rush, babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just a little rush, babe_   
>  _To feel dizzy, to derail the mind of me_   
>  _Just a little hush, babe_   
>  _Our veins are busy but my heart's in atrophy_   
>  _Any way to distract and sedate_   
>  _Adding shadows to the walls of the cave_
> 
>  
> 
> ...
> 
> _Something isn't right, babe_  
>  _I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin_  
>  _I'm somewhere outside my life, babe_  
>  _I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in_  
>  **So we're slaves to any semblance of touch**  
>  **Lord we should quit but we love it too much**
> 
> Hozier's "Sedated"

### Chapter 1: just a little rush, babe

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Danny looks up to see Kono blowing her wispy bangs out of her face, hands covered in flour, jaw clenched and lip pursed. 

“And what seems to be the problem, babe?” Danny teases, folding chocolate chips into the bowl of batter in front of him. 

“You know,” she walks over to him, pointing a flour-covered finger in his face, “when I said I would help with the extra orders tonight, I didn’t know that it meant dealing with that,” she points to the sticky, doughy mess on the counter behind her. “That," she repeats, "is bullshit.”

Danny chuckles and walks over to the counter where the glob of challah dough sat. “C’mere, lemme show you again.”

Kono trudges back to the counter, standing with her arms crossed next to the baker. “Why can’t we just, I don’t know, take a blob,” she grabs a handful, “and just," she plops it on the tray. "There, good enough for me."

"The reason why we can't just do that, Kono," Danny says, as-a-matter-of-factly, grabbing the ball of dough she had just dropped, "is because, in this bakery, we follow Nana Williams' way of doing things." Kono rolls her eyes but watches as Danny rolls out the dough in his hand until it's a smooth, long piece, and then knots it and puts it down softly on the tray. "And since Nana Williams did challah this way until the day she died-- literally," he adds, "it's the way we do things here."

"This is Hawaii," Kono challenges, grabbing a piece of dough, "why does anyone buy challah here anyways?"

Danny snorts as he grabs a piece and swiftly rolls it and knots it. "Because," he counters, "no one can deny the goodness of a challah roll." He plops the unbaked roll on the tray and watches his friend attempt to knot the dough in her hand. "That's not bad, you'll get it eventually," he insists.

"You know, if you'd told me four years ago when Steve and I walked into this place that I'd be kneading dough and baking muffins with you," Kono mumbles, "I woulda punched you in the nuts," she grabs another piece of dough, and Danny walks back to his counter, smiling. "I'm not kidding," she adds.

"You're starting to sound like McGarrett," Danny comments as he mixes the batter around aimlessly.

"Starting?" a voice quips, as Kono says, "I literally spend half my life with him, are you that surprised?"

Danny looks up, and Steve is standing in the doorway of the bakery's kitchen, a pizza box in his hands, grinning at Kono standing at the counter, disheveled and covered in flour. 

"Ah, look who finally decides to arrive," Danny points at the clock on the wall, "an hour late." Steve rolls his eyes, smirks at Danny as he puts the pizza box down on the empty counter. "Wash your filthy hands and get an apron, goof."

"Alright, alright, sorry I'm late, I got caught up in a phone call and lost track of time," Steve admits, grabbing the apron hanging on the stool near him. "But," he continues, "I brought pizza, so you all are obligated to love me."

"A phone call?" Kono asks as Danny directs Steve to the packaging table, where trays of cooled-down muffins laid out side by side.

"Yes?" Steve replies in a question as he starts taking muffins out of their cups.

"That's weird," Danny comments nonchalantly as he starts pouring the batter in the tray in front of him. 

"Aha!" Kono exclaims, unaware of the two men talking; she had finally adequately knotted a piece of the damned dough.

"Why is that weird?" Steve inquires, not looking at Danny's smirk as he continues pouring the batter.

"Ah, just 'cause," Danny shrugs, pouring the last of the batter out, using one hand to pour and the other to talk. "I didn't know Neanderthals were capable of using such advanced technology."

"Oh god," Kono rolls her eyes as Steve looks back at Danny, who has a Cheshire Cat smile on his face. "It hasn't even been two fuckin' minutes."

"Bite me, Danno," Steve retorts, but the smile on his face says otherwise. He turns back, putting more muffins in the plastic packaging containers labeled with the bakery's logo.

Danny puts down the empty bowl and picks up the muffin tray, and carefully but swiftly carries it to the oven. He opens it, a hot gust hits his face as the light switches on, and he gently puts the tray on the top wire rack. "Riddle me this, McGarrett," he continues on, shutting the oven door, "what kind of pizza did you bring?" Danny runs his hand through his hair and turns towards Steve's direction, who is squatting to put a pile of the containers on the floor, feigning innocence.

"One day," Kono sighs, rolling a piece of dough in her hands as she looks up to the ceiling. "One blessed day is all I ask for," Steve stands back up and faces Danny, smirking. "One day of peace is all I pray for," Kono argues to no one, and adds another unbaked challah roll to the tray. 

Danny walks back to his counter and picks up the bowls and the spoons in his area, and steps over and dumps them into the sink. Steve stops packing everything and starts helping Kono roll and knot challah rolls. They manage to get about three-quarters of the dough done and put the trays near the oven to rise quickly. Danny washes almost all the spoons and the bowls, drying them on a towel next to the sink. Minus the soft stream of water and the clinking of utensils and bowls, the room is unusually quiet. Which is why Kono isn't surprised when--

"Steven, I swear to god, if there is a goddamn fruit on my pizza--"

"The pizza is a gift, and one that you should be appreciative of, Danny," Steve teases, and Danny finishes rinsing the last bowl. "And for your information--"

"A gi- a gift?" Danny repeats, incredulous, and dries his hands on a nearby towel. "Did you say that the pizza that you claim as your way of saying 'sorry' is a--"

"They're arguing about pizza," Kono moans to no one and knots challah rolls as she watches the pair.

"We spoke about this four years ago, Steven, I made it very clear that fruit does not belong on pizza, ever," Danny is standing with his hip jutted out, hands on both hips and chest puffed out. "It is not only a disgrace to pizza, but an offensive--"

"Oh, geez, you--"

"-- act, a crime against humanity," Danny continues as the oven buzzes. "Pizza is three things, McGarrett," he drones on, opening the oven and glancing, "it's--"

"Daniel, I've known you for four years, as you said. I swear to God if you start this--"

"You brought the pizza," Danny shuts the oven and sets the timer again for five extra minutes. "You were late, therefore you started it."

At this point, Steve and Kono have finished the dough, the last tray is sat on the counter where Kono, who is officially done with the two men, is resting her head in her arms in defeat. "Well, maybe if you shut your yap for a second, you'd let me get a word in so I can explain that I, being the wonderful pal that I am," Steve points to himself, "me, Steve McGarrett, bought myself two slices of pineapple and ham, and the rest is plain for you and Kono to enjoy."

"Hmph," Danny grunts, leaning against the counter across from Steve. "Well, you were late, so this cancels out," he concludes, as-a-matter-of-factly, and Kono audibly groans and shifts so her head is resting on her hands, her elbows against the counter.

"Ca- cancels out, Danny? Cancels out- this isn't math, PEMDAS doesn't apply here, this is real life, Daniel," Steve points out.

"PEMDAS, really? You--"

"Yeah, PEMDAS. I learned about it when I was helping Gracie with her homework, it's when--"

“Full offense, but you two are the most emotionally constipated people I have ever had the misfortune of knowing,” Kono interjects, popping her head up.

Danny and Steve look away from each other to their friend, their faces both equally amusing. Danny starts first, “constipated? Really? That’s the word you’re gonna use—“

“You could’ve chosen any other word—“

“I’ll have you know I am very emotionally vulnerable—“

“You could’ve used the word ‘stunted’ or ‘unavailable,’ but y’had to—“

“I express my anger all the time—“

“— use the word that directly relates to pooping, really?”

“— and I always tell everyone when I’m upset—“

"Oh and not for anything, you know a grand total of like, five people--"

"-- anger is an emotion, so therefore--"

“Danny, anger is not an emotion for you, it’s literally just your constant state of existence,” Kono retorts.

“Wha- hey, that’s not fair—“

“She’s got a point, Danno—“

“Shut it, you Neanderthal."

“I need a break from you two, and you two need to get a room,” Kono blurts and saunters out of the kitchen with a muffin in her hand.

A moment passes, and Steve turns around and starts packing again. The oven buzzes and Danny goes over and takes the tray of muffins out. “So, a phone call, huh?” Danny inquires, ignoring Kono’s comment, hands casually crossed on his chest once the tray is resting on the counter.

“Yeah, with Cath,” Steve replies, breezily. He wraps up another package and puts it aside.

“Ah,” Danny says, “with Cath. How did that go?” 

“As well as can be expected, considering she’s been on the mainland for three months now.” Steve wipes his hands on his apron, walks over to the pizza box and whips it open, shoving a slice in his mouth.

“So your relationship…?” Danny leaves his question hanging in the air, approaching the pizza box, scowling at the pineapple slices.

“…Is non-existent, yes,” Steve concludes. “Well,” he adds, “not really. Cath is claiming she’ll be back in Hawaii in no time, so I guess it’s not over, according to her.” He’s standing against the counter, chewing thoughtfully, looking at some corner in the kitchen.

“And according to you?” Danny can’t help but ask. He watches Steve as he leans against the counter, he jeans bunched up at his ankle, his white shirt stark against his tanned skin. He got a haircut, Danny mentally notes, maybe today or yesterday.

“Okay, Dr. Phil, that’s enough,” Steve rolls his eyes, but he puts down his slice in the box and walks over to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He turns and walks back to Danny, who is munching down on his pineapple-less slice. “Honestly?”

Danny nods, surprised at Steve’s willingness to offer any more information. 

“I think I stopped… being in love with her,” Steve squints and waves his hand aimlessly, “a long time ago.” He shrugs and takes a sip from the bottle in his hand.

“Hm,” is all Danny says, and grabs the bottle from his friend and gulps half of it down.

“Hey!” Steve exclaims, grabbing it back. “Emotionally constipated, my ass.” Danny scrunches his nose and bites into his slice. “If anyone’s emotionally constipated, it’s your dumb ass,” Steve barks. 

"I see what you did with the wordplay," Danny points his slice in Steve's direction, "and I don't appreciate it." Steve chuckles as he eats the last of his slice and goes over to the sink, washing his hands as Danny gives him instructions for the order of chocolate chip cookies for the next day. Kono re-enters the kitchen, washes her hands and starts working with Steve, conversing about the surf shop and the waves that morning.

Danny watches his friends for a moment, making sure they had everything in order, before turning to his own section of the kitchen and prepping for the dozen of pies he had to make, half for the store, the other half specially ordered in advance. He quietly walks over to the fridge, taking out the two large metal bowls of apples he had sliced before Kono had arrived. Steve and Kono are laughing at some joke Kono had cracked, Danny hears, and he lets them be, not wanting to interrupt their flow of conversation. Danny grabs the crate of flour from the floor, unloading bag on the counter in front of him. The pies would hopefully be the worst part of the night, and if it weren't for Kono and Steve volunteering their time to help him when his regular assistant called in sick last minute, Danny probably would have been in the kitchen until 3 am, or even later.

Kono and Steve-- and Chin, too -- came into his life like an 8-foot wave in the early morning, nearly four and a half years ago; they crashed down heavily on Danny's life, and it left him winded but begging for more. He had moved from New Jersey two months before, his knee a permanent wreck and his heart buried deep in him, only peaking out for his daughter, Grace. Rachel and Stan taking Grace with them to Hawaii had changed Danny, hardened him in a way that his old job as a detective could never do. Days alone in the house that they had once called home drove Danny to a place that he never wanted to go back to, and sometimes he thanks God, late at night when no one is around, for that one overnight stakeout that had resulted in his destructed knee. Rachel had rushed back to New Jersey, her marriage in shambles and Grace a little angel in disheveled ponytails, their cheeks tear-stained. 

For a while, in New Jersey, recovering from the surgeries with Grace and Rachel in the house again, things were normal. They ordered pizza on Sunday nights, the front door creaked whenever they walked out (or, in Danny's case, hobbled with crutches or a cane), they made their monthly trips to the Asbury Park Boardwalk and sat at the wooden table as they ate french fries and sipped on lemonade. But summer ended, and Rachel needed to bring Grace back to Hawaii for school, and the dust settled; despite the proclamations of love during the three months together, despite the nights in bed, despite everything, she went back to Stan and took the one good thing in Danny's life from him. September was marked with all the warmth leaving his life, and Danny wouldn't last if he didn't do something about it. So he packed up, said goodbye to his family despite every urge in his body pulling him back; but the most important thing pulled him forward, pulled him thousands of miles away from his home, like the moon pulling the tides in, deafeningly quiet but with purpose. Rachel had left him broken, and his daughter was his rock, his moon that pulled him back from the edge of breaking. So he picked himself up, rented a small apartment not far from his ex-wife and his daughter with the money left from his last paycheck. Rachel was fool's gold, but his daughter-- his everything -- he would sacrifice it all for. So, he did. 

But, his knee was done for, and he wouldn't be stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life. It all led to him needing to make a living, and baking came to him just as naturally as detective work did. He borrowed the money from his parents to open the place up, used his grandmother's recipes, and, most importantly, he got to see Grace's smile and hear her laugh in person. That, to Danny, was worth everything. 

"Danny?" 

Danny looked up from the counter where he was fluting the pie crusts edges, snapping out of his train of thought, his hands covered in flour. "Yeah, sorry-- what's up?" he asks, looking at Steve, who was smiling at his friend's apparent day-dreaming and baking combination (that oddly worked for Danny, who could make these pies in his damn sleep).

"We finished mixing the dough," Steve points out, tilting the bowl for Danny to see, his lips still slightly curved in a smirk. "Should we put it in the fridge, or wait for you to finish--"

"Just stick it in the fridge, cover it-- you know what to do, McGarrett," Danny mutters, and Kono snickers, clearly amused at Danny's furrowed brows.

Steve does as the baker says, and Danny gets to work on finishing the pie edges. Kono excuses herself to the bathroom, and Danny busies himself.

"You alright?" Steve asks, suddenly appearing next to Danny. His apron was covered in flour and his arm was streaked with what Danny recognized to be baking soda, which Danny found oddly endearing. 

"Wha- oh," Danny finishes the last pie edge, pushing it to the side, "yeah, just thinking."

"Oh," Steve raises his eyebrows, "well, don't think too hard, it seems to be takin' a lot out of you." Danny rolls his eyes and gives him the middle finger. 

***

It was ten- almost eleven, actually, when Danny locked the doors of his bakery and felt the warm Hawaiian breeze for the first time since the morning. He had been working all day, backed up on orders when he frantically called up Steve, prepared to beg and bribe when he answered the phone; Steve had heard the panic in his voice and told Danny that he and Kono would be there that evening to help with what needed to be done. Steve's surf shop closed later than the bakery now because of the time of the year. More and more people flooded the island for vacation and breaks, wanting the "authentic" surfing experience. It also helped Danny's business, because the visitors tended to love seeing a taste of mainland "culture" that his bakery brought to the island, with his classic American pies, challah rolls, chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodle cookies, et cetera. Business flourished for both Danny and Steve, which was obviously a good thing, but left them quite busy; it didn't stop them from hanging out whenever they could, whether it was going to the surf shop with Grace on their free afternoon or grabbing a beer after work. Sometimes Kono and Chin would be with them, if Chin could get a free shift from his job at HPD and if Kono could free her "very busy, thank you very much" schedule, according to the surfer herself. No matter what, though, Danny and Steve always made time for each other, and even with the constant bickering and teasing, they wouldn't have it any other way.

"Another competition? Really?" Danny laments, looking at Kono and Steve, who were both glowing with excitement, smiles plastered on their faces. He pretends to not know about the competition, despite the fact that Grace had raved about it earlier on the phone, insisting on going. "You're telling me that I have to stand out in the sun for five hours again?"

"Well, it's next Sunday, so we gave you adequate enough time to prepare," Kono points out, walking to her car. "And besides, this one is gonna be absolutely killer," she claims, her eyes practically popping out her head as she continues. "I heard there are reports calling for heavies, like seriously pumping."

"Heavies?" Danny mouths to Steve, who just smiles and spreads his hands out above his head and raises his eyebrows. "Ah," Danny sighs, walking next to him as they all head to their cars. The pizza box was being balanced between Danny's arm and hip. Kono finishes explaining the competition to Danny, and Danny bumps the shoulder of his free arm into Steve purposely. "Hey, thanks for helping tonight, you saved me from pullin' an all-nighter."

"No problem, buddy," Steve smiles, "as thanks for me being your knight-in-shining-armor, you're coming to the competition next Sunday," Steve insists, and Kono adds in a "mhmm" for extra measure. "And bring Grace."

They're all standing in front of Kono's car. Danny rolls his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. "What if I just drop Grace off and watch you guys from my car, where there is air conditioning and a wonderful lack of sand?"

Steve pretends to consider it and then shakes his head. "As much as I would love to not see your dumb ass, I've come to consider you my good luck charm at these things," he smiles goofily and even Kono rolls her eyes. 

"Fine, but you owe me beer," Danny declares, and Steve shakes his head in disbelief. 

"He perpetually owes you beer," Kono adds, and Danny suppresses an obnoxious "ha!" as Steve makes a face.

"Alright, I'm gonna go collapse on my bed in my jeans and regret it in the morning," Danny announces. "Thank you both for your help, I think I'm the one who actually owes you beers. You saved my ass tonight," he admits. Kono smiles at him and shrugs it off, and Steve nods quietly. "Stop by tomorrow, I'll give you guys leftovers," he adds, and Steve visibly perks up. 

"Good night, old men," Kono replies and opens the door to her car. Danny starts walking to his car, Steve trailing behind him.

Steve's steps are heavy behind Danny. "Not up for that beer now?" he asks, and Danny looks back as he reaches his car. Steve had parked his truck next to him.

"I'm getting in my car once tonight," Danny retorts, and Steve chuckles.

"Stay at my place tonight, I've got a six-pack in the fridge. I'll drive you here tomorrow morning before I open the shop," Steve casually challenges, leaning against his truck with ease. 

"Ugh, fine, but only because I love beer," Danny insists, and Steve smirks, opening his door and getting into his seat, slamming the door behind him as Danny went around the black truck and got into the passenger seat.

"So, what about you?" Steve prompts, as he backs out of the parking spot, looking back, arm stretched out as he strained his neck. Danny looks at Steve, eyes drawn to the tattoos peeking out of Steve's shirt, his bicep stretched out, skin tan from days out in the water. "Danny?" 

Danny blinks, looking away as Steve turns back to turn the wheel and drive straight. "What about me?"

"I told you about Cath," Steve's face hardens for a moment. "So what about you?" Steve is driving out of the lot, turning onto the street.

"Me?" Danny asks, incredulous. "I have absolutely no time to casually date if that's what you're askin'." His elbow is resting on the side of the car, his back slumped against the back of his seat, the car's vibrations quickly calming him. 

"Really, nothing at all?" Steve inquires again, adjusting his hand on the wheel and using his other hand to roll down the window. He glances over at Danny in the passenger seat, who is looking straight ahead at the road. 

"Nope, nothing, Steven," Danny assures, making a face. And it's true, Danny really hasn't been dating much. Sure, he's been on a few dates set up by Kono and even Rachel introduced him to a friend, but nothing stuck. "I'd rather just focus on the Grace, and the bakery."

"You need a hobby," Steve teases, and Danny flicks his arm. Danny doesn't care because he knows it's true, but between running the business, keeping up with Grace, and making time for his friends, he barely has time to spare for a blind date, let alone knitting... or whatever. "Hey, maybe Kono will finally give in and pick one of us," Steve jokes, and Danny chuckles at their continuing gag.

"Honestly, don't even joke about it anymore. You and I have seen that girl dance on bars and make out with complete strangers while beating them at pool," Danny says, fiddling with his jean pocket. "She's way too wild for either of us, even if either of us saw her that way. Terrifies the livin' crap out of me, would probably get a heart attack within the first five minutes."

"Yeah, but joking about it bugs her and Chin to no end, and it's worth every cringy moment," Steve smirks, turning the wheel with one hand. 

"Oh, Chin's face is worth every second of it," Danny agrees, and Steve laughs. 

When they reached Steve's house, Danny's entire body was aching, his muscles heavy and his vision slightly blurred. Steve had grabbed the pizza box from Danny's lap, grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth as he weighed the box on his hip and walked to the front door, Danny trailing behind him. Steve unlocked the door with his key, the pizza slice hanging in his mouth and the box in his other arm. The door swings open and the men let themselves in, Steve walking to both the lamps and switching them on. Danny slips off his shoes and slides onto the couch, his body slumping into the brown leather. 

"Oh, just make yourself comfortable," Steve remarks sarcastically through a mouthful of pizza, waving the slice in Danny's direction. 

Danny smirks, putting his feet up across the expanse of the couch. "What's that, your third slice tonight?" he teases, running his hand through his hair. Steve is standing by the door still, chewing on another bite of the slice in his hand. As far as Danny's concerned, the joke is half-assed, considering what Steve actually looks like. Danny would be the first to admit that the least of Steve's problems-- and there are problems, mind you, a whole list of them that Danny has yet to take the time to write out -- was his physical appearance. Hell, Danny reckons Steve could eat a whole pie every day and he would still be unabashedly gawked at by anyone he walked past in public. 

"I'll go for a swim and a run tomorrow," Steve shrugs and takes off to the kitchen.

"You do that anyway," Danny calls out after him, still lying back on the couch. He hears Steve plop the box on the counter and the opening and closing of the fridge. Half a minute later, the open bottles clinked in Steve's hand as he walked back to the front room, and handed one to Danny. "Thanks," Danny offers, and swings his legs to the floor and straightens his back out. He takes a sip and scratches the back of his neck. 

Steve sits on the smaller couch diagonal from Danny, leaning back and he takes a swig and sighs. "You left your clothes here last time, I washed them and left them in your bed upstairs." Steve pushes the book on the ottoman in front of him out of the way with his feet and puts his feet up.

"Oh," Danny replies, "thanks, man." Steve takes another sip, clearly not realizing what he had said. Danny assumes that when Steve had said 'your bed,' he didn't mean anything by it, but it still made his heart skip a beat. It wasn't anything new though, considering both he and Grace saw Steve as family, anyways. But still, it made Danny happy that the other man was comfortable enough to call a spare room his.

Danny's priority was his daughter, and he would do anything to provide her with the love and care she deserves, obviously. When Danny had been in New Jersey, before he moved, after the accident, he made a vow to himself to be there for Grace. He wanted to be a constant figure in her life, he didn't want her to know what it was like to not have him around anymore, and he didn't want her to worry about him-- or anyone -- disappearing on her. Despite all that, Danny was quick to introduce Grace to Steve, and Kono and Chin not long after. It took a short time for Danny to realize that he had been quick to do so when Grace started talking about "Uncle Steve" taking her to get shaved ice and "Auntie Kono" teaching her to surf. And Danny was terrified because he worked so hard to be a constant presence in his daughter's life, and he had gone and introduced his daughter to these people, unsure where they stood in his life, let alone hers. Unlike Danny, Kono and Chin and Steve could walk out of her life as they pleased. Yet, they never did. And now, "Uncle Steve" was one of Grace's favorite people in the world, high up on her list-- Danny has a sneaking suspicion that Steve's higher than Step-Stan on that said list. "Auntie Kono" surfs with Grace every weekend that Danny has her, and "Uncle Chin" was her sandcastle-building partner.

Danny's arms were aching as he took another sip of the beer and sank further into the couch. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, only interrupting to make small talk about work and the weather. 

It amazes Danny how this was his life now. Fifteen years ago, had you told him he would be in Hawaii, sitting in a former Lt. Commander Navy SEAL's house on a Saturday night after a long day of working in his own bakery, his daughter a few miles away in his ex-wife and her husband's mansion, he would've had an existential crisis. And somehow, it works. This life he made for himself worked so well, and it scares Danny sometimes that he lives with such ease, the stress in his shoulders being from carrying bags of flour and long days in a kitchen rather than a particularly gruesome murder case. And Grace, god, Grace was the best thing of all, not the least expected but the most welcomed of all. Everything fit, somehow. Hawaii, Danny reluctantly admits, fits. Grace, and even Rachel, fit. Steve, Kono, Chin, even Kamekona fit, somehow, with ease, planting themselves firmly on the ground of Danny's life. So hearing Steve so casually invite him over, call a spare bed 'yours,' immediately invite Grace wherever... Danny knew he kept his promise to himself. He did it right. He wouldn't tell anybody (especially Steve, who would gloat until the day he died), but Jersey isn't home, not anymore. His parents were there, his childhood home and school, old friends, they all stayed. Danny was okay without them, okay with a trip once or twice a year. In these four years, Hawaii, he admits to himself, became home. 

When Danny stood in the doorway of his room that night, Steve lingered for a moment, saying goodnight and making sure he had everything he needed. Danny smiled, thanking him, and watched as the other man walked away, mumbling about pizza or something or other. He threw himself in his bed, changed in an old t-shirt and a pair of too-big short given to him by Steve and teeth brushed. And just for a moment, Danny thanked whatever god above or below for the family he had unintentionally built for himself, for the tide that tugged him towards these stupid islands, for his moon. 

He also made a mental note that he had to order chocolate chips tomorrow and that he was going to have a terrible headache, too.


	2. just a great figure eight, or a tiny infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Young and full of running_   
>  _Tell me where's that taking me?_   
>  _Just a great figure eight or a tiny infinity_
> 
> _Love is really nothing_  
>  _But a dream that keeps waking me_  
>  _For all of my trying_  
>  _We still end up dying_  
>  _How can it be?_
> 
> **Don't say a word, just come over and lie here with me**  
>  **'Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see**  
>  _I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe_  
>  _There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me_
> 
> _So young and full of running, all the way to the edge of desire_  
>  _Steady my breathing, silently screaming,_  
>  _"I have to have you now"_  
>  _Wired and I'm tired_  
>  _Think I'll sleep in my clothes on the floor_  
>  _Maybe this mattress will spin on its axis and find me on yours_
> 
> John Mayer's "Edge of Desire"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! this is the second (of i dont know how many) chapters. im hella exhausted but i needed to put another chapter out, so here. a few things: i decided to refrain from writing charlie in, he might come in later, still unsure. also, grace is 11 in this fic, and im putting the timing around 2013. im not exactly sure if that's the same as the show, but that's just what i wanted lol. additionally, i am going to add in tani, junior and lou, but it wont be until later (along with catherine, as you'll see). 
> 
> i know this is a bit of a mess, but the fic is going to be long, as it will be very slow-burn. i hope you enjoy!!!

### Chapter 2: just a great figure eight, or a tiny infinity

Danny couldn't sleep. He was not much for twisting and turning, usually had no trouble falling asleep once his head hit the pillow, especially if he had worked all day. The fact that it wasn't his own bed was not the problem, because he had spent more than enough nights in Steve's spare bed to call it his own. He most definitely was tired, because his eyes were burning behind the lids, pleading for sleep to take over the strain. But that wasn't the problem. Maybe it was the fourth beer that Steve had handed to him, complaining that the pizza and two beers he had downed was more than enough for him. Yeah, maybe. Danny's tolerance wasn't too great to begin with, but since he'd only eaten a slice and a half all day, the beer sat in his stomach. He'd gotten up to pee twice already, noticing each time that he was somewhat unsteady. He guessed that at this point in his life, the least surprising thing to happen to him was his inability to drink more than three beers without getting tipsy.

He peeked at the clock on the bedside table, which read 3:47. Steve would be up in a couple of hours. 

He was just down the hallway, Steve. Danny knew that Steve always left his bedroom door open, not fully, just enough to see a corner of his bed. The first time when he and Grace had stayed here, Grace had woken up from a nightmare. It didn't happen often, but when she did, she usually went right back to sleep. They had stayed that night because of a bonfire that Steve decided to throw, and since Danny had gotten stupidly drunk, Steve offered up the two bedrooms. She slept in the bedroom between Steve's and Danny's, and, not knowing which room was which, Grace had opened the door to Steve's room. Steve told Danny the next day that he had sat up, and rather than turning away, Grace informed him, tears in her eyes, that she had a bad dream, and slipped right into bed with Steve. Danny remembers profusely apologizing, but Steve only smiled at him and said, "it's okay, I have experience with bad dreams." Danny could only guess Steve was referring to his own nightmares, or maybe Mary had nightmares as a kid. Danny noticed that every time after the first time, Steve left the door open, just in case; Grace had since wandered in more times than he could count, but she's older now. Danny can't remember the last time she crawled into his own bed, let alone Steve's. He guessed that Steve kept his door cracked open out of habit. 

The bed under him was warm, the blanket pulled up to his neck; Danny felt like his whole body was on fire, sweat had started forming on his forehead. He shifted to his side, pushing the blanket from him to the end of the bed, where it now laid crumpled, cooling off. The room was humid, which didn't aid Danny's inability to freakin' fall asleep. He was a little buzzed, he knew it, but that should be making it easier for him to fall asleep. Inevitably, it wasn't.

Steve was right down the hallway. He could technically wake him up, complain of boredom or lack of an ability to fall asleep. Hell, Steve had done it to him more than enough times, either not long after they'd went their separate ways or at five in the morning. But, it was three, almost four in the morning, and even Steve wouldn't disturb Danny at this time of the night. So Danny was alone. He stretched his legs and lifted himself up from his bed, grabbing his pillow and shoving it in his lap. His head throbbed like someone was digging their palms in temples, determined to make it impossible for him to function. Danny squeezed the pillow tighter against him and burrowed his face in it, frustrated with the whole situation. He gives up and gets out of bed, flinging the pillow against the headboard and shuffling out of the room.

He heads downstairs, dragging his feet as he navigates his way to the smaller of the two couches, flicks on the lamp for light, and puts his feet up on the ottoman as Steve had done a few hours before. His foot hit the book that Steve had pushed to the side before, and Danny leans over and grabs it. "Sapiens" by Yuval Noah Harari. He flips through the pages for a moment, landing on the page that Steve had bookmarked with a pencil. The page was covered with little notes-- in fact, Danny realizes, they all were. He flips to the beginning of the book, the first chapter, and his jaw dropped when he saw all the notes in what was unmistakably Steve's handwriting. He had underlined words, arrows all over to indicate a comment or a question. 

"'This is interesting,'" Steve writes, "'because we consider ourselves the best, the most superior of all species, but our own psyche tears us down, resulting in us attempting to make up for our lack of confidence.'"

Danny can't help but continue reading, not the book but his friend's comments, which he quickly realized were unmistakably profound and calculated. "'Legal systems only function because we have all agreed that the rules hold a certain value,'" Danny reads out loud. "'We assigned a fictional value to ideas and that is how society is created'... really Steve? You'll find any way to break a rule, won't you?" Danny retorts, talking to an empty room. 

"'Marriage is a result of socializing, purely fictional... passage is arguing that cheating is just our bodies' nature, we naturally want more than one partner," Steve had scribbled on the top of one page. Geez, Danny thinks, no wonder Catherine practically sprinted to the mainland. He knew it wasn't true, or at least that Steve didn't agree with that sentiment, but it made him chuckle.

"Enjoying yourself?" Steve's voice came from above him, and ever the detective, Danny didn't hear him come down the stairs and didn't notice him standing behind the couch, hovering over him. Danny jumped for a moment, then gave Steve a dirty look as he navigates around the couch where Danny sat and plopped down on the bigger couch. "Bit of late-night reading?" he teased.

Danny shut the book and put it back on the ottoman. "Couldn't sleep," he shrugged, "your little comments are somethin' else, you know that?"

Steve simpered, surging forward to grab the book. "I used to watch my mom spend hours on that couch and read, and she'd always scribble in the margins." He fiddles with the front cover, "Cath used to always make fun of me. Now I can't read a book without a pen in my hand."

"Hm," is all Danny says. They sit for a moment, Steve surprisingly awake, despite the time of night. He put the book next to him and pads into the kitchen, coming back with a cup of water and a bottle of aspirin. He hands it over to Danny, who had, up until that moment, unconsciously been rubbing his temple in a failed attempt to tame his headache. "Thanks, my head is pounding," Danny admits, and grabs the glass and bottle from Steve's hands. 

"I know," Steve answers softly. "You want me to stay down here with you?"

Danny shakes his head as he swallows down the aspirin, taking another sip of the water before saying, "go back to sleep." Steve was standing by him, a look of concern on his face, his brows furrowed and his jaw set. 

"Yes, you big goof, I'm sure," Danny answers his silent question audibly. Steve stares at him for another moment, biting the insides of his cheeks. "I will be fine once the headache goes away," Danny assures him, his face burning with embarrassment from Steve's look of concern. 

"I'm gonna call Kalena in the morning, tell her to open the bakery so you can sleep in," Steve insists, and Danny shakes his head, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Clearly, all the work you did yesterday-- and probably this week, too-- plus four beers," Steve pauses, "not the best combination." Danny leans back, not even bothering to argue with him. "So," he continues, "just let Kalena open, I'll tell Kono to open up the shop and I'll drive you to the bakery before lunch."

Danny considers this for a moment. It was a Sunday, usually a busy day, too. And it wasn't like Kalena wasn't trustworthy; hell, she had been working with Danny for three and a half years now and probably knows the bakery and customers just as well as Danny does. Sleeping in on a Sunday was a luxury, but it was a luxury that Danny, as a successful business owner-- if he does say so himself -- could afford. 

"Fine," Danny concedes, "but, you shouldn't make Kono open up," Danny proposes. "Don't throw a hissy fit, I'll uber to the bakery after I wake up," he challenges.

"That's cute," Steve points at him, making a face, "really," he insists, "you're cute." Danny shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, I'm making breakfast." 

"Babe, no--"

"No 'babes' can get you out of this, Daniel," Steve retorts, waving his hand around. "Goodnight," he concludes and walks away, leaving Danny with a glass of water, a headache, and a rant forming in his mind that Steve will surely hear at breakfast. 

***

Sunday passes with a breeze, Danny had managed to sleep in until nearly ten o'clock, followed by Steve teasing him about it the whole morning. Steve had dropped Danny off, shoved a bagged sandwich and a water bottle in his hand, mumbling about how "you wouldn't have a headache if you ate during the day" and that he "better eat the sandwich I made, I won't hesitate to call Kalena and force her to make you eat throughout the day, I mean, for god's sake, you work at a bakery, Danny." Danny had obviously accepted the sandwich and bottle because he didn't need Steve calling his employee, thank you very much.

And when Kalena attempted to casually coax Danny into taking a lunch break, he threatened to make her clean the ovens for two weeks straight if she didn't show him the text from Steve that she was hiding. There were three. Three texts, one of which called Danny a "stubborn brat." Danny made a mental note to delete Kalena's number off of Steve's phone, and to punch him in the face, too. 

As for the rest of the day, it went pretty smoothly. It was no busier than a usual Sunday, and Danny and Kalena closed shop at five, cleaned up and tidied like they always do, and locked up and bid each other good night like they always do. Danny got home, made himself some pasta, watched some Seinfeld, and fell asleep on the couch, dragging himself to his bed at three something in the morning, jeans still on and headache taunting him like a schoolyard bully. 

Now Mondays... Danny had a love/hate relationship with Mondays, to be quite honest. On one hand, it was the one day a week that the bakery was closed. He could wake up later, sit and drink his coffee, get a workout in, do normal human things that didn't merely involve excessive quantities of sugar and flour. But on the other hand, he still had to work, still had to show up at the bakery and get things done. Being a business owner has many upsides, Danny admits, but being your own boss means actually bossing yourself around. Danny argues with himself every Monday because he loves being lazy. He loves sitting around in his pajamas. He loves having a lazy day (or five). So the one day that he could sit around and relax, he actually can't. He has to go take inventory, has to review the schedule and orders for the upcoming week, manage the cash from the past week, argue with his supplier on the phone (it happens every damn time, no matter what), and more, unfortunately. Being your own boss means schedule versatility, but it also means discipline; pushing yourself to get out of bed before nine in the morning even though your bed is warm and you only managed to get a few hours of real sleep that night. And sure, he could technically stay an hour later every day to make up for taking Monday off, but Danny recognizes that he would actually hate himself if he did that. So, no thanks. And sitting at his kitchen table with a mug of coffee, scrolling through his phone reading the news, heading to the gym-- these were great leisurely things that Danny could do every Monday morning, but he still had to drag his ass to his bakery and do what he needed to do.

Which is why Danny was standing in the middle of his bakery kitchen, flailing his arms around aimlessly as he quarrels with his supplier on the phone. 

"Look, Ike, I told you I wanted blackberries, and somehow I end up with a crate of raspberries, and this," he shakes his hand and uses the other to pinch the bridge of his nose, "this doesn't work, man."

Danny had been surprised when Dave had shown up on time for the delivery, considering he had only called it in the day before. He was even more surprised when he saw that they had managed to actually get his order right, checking over each box and crate that he and Dave had brought in the kitchen through the back. He had been spent by the time they finished unloading and sent Dave out the door without a complaint. It took Danny twenty minutes to realize that the crate labeled "BERRIES" was, in fact, not the blackberries that he needed for the blackberry cheesecake squares this week. He breathed in a deep breath and let out a huge sigh, which turned into a groan. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and furiously scrolled to find the number he was looking for, which led to this. 

"No, Ikaia, I can't just-- yes, I'm a baker, I can bake what I want, but that doesn't mean I have to--"

Danny clenches his jaw, listening to the tinny voice on the other line gab on about 'accommodations' and so forth. "Ike, put Dave on the phone," he grumbles and then waits for the phone to be passed over to the man on the other line. 

His shoulders were pulsating with pain; he hadn't even realized that they were so tensed, practically up to his ears. His knee was acting up, as it always did whenever he did some heavy-lifting. Because of the strain, his hip was hurting, and a sharp pain jabbed at his tailbone whenever he put pressure on his foot or knee. Every damn week, Danny thinks, huffing as he hears two voices and some shuffling on the other line.

"Yeah?" Danny hears Dave chime in, and Danny has to bite his cheeks in order to stop himself from going off on the man. 

"Dude, I asked for damn blackberries, and unless I've been colorblind my whole damn life, the box that is currently sitting in front of me is not filled with blackberries," he badgers, and he stares at the wooden crate on the counter ahead of him. "If there weren't any blackberries, then why on earth would you confirm the order?"

"Nah, Danny, there were blackberries, but your order had been later," Dave says, as-a-matter-of-factly. "We musta' put the wrong type o' crate aside, and it got mixed up with the rest o' them."

"I don't care about the semantics, I care about the damn blackberries, Dave," Danny reminded him, gritting his teeth. "So," he continued, waving his hand in the direction the crate, "when can I get my order of blackberries, because I have to make blackberry cheesecake bars. And in case you don't understand," he adds, "the blackberries are clearly the quintessential ingredient needed, buddy."

There was a pause on the other line. Danny drops his hand to his side. "Yeah, I already asked all the locals, and the earliest I can getcha some blackberries would be on Wednesday, from a guy that ain't even on the list," Dave reveals, and Danny just accepts defeat, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I can try--"

Danny's phone buzzes and he pulls it away from his ear, his ex-wife's name lighting up the screen. He holds back a scowl and puts the phone back to his ear. "Don't bother, just don't charge me for next week's berries. I gotta take this call, thanks Dave," he mutters and pulls the phone away from his ear. He pushes the green button, hanging up on his supplier.

"Rachel," he states curtly, voice indicative of his lassitude and frustration.

"Daniel, hello," Rachel's voice is slightly muffled, "sorry if I'm interrupting you at work."

Danny breathes for a moment, closes his eyes and breathes out. "It's fine, nothing too important. Everything alright?"

"Yes, yes- well, everything is fine, but I've just heard from Stan," Danny grits his teeth at the mention of his ex-wife's husband's name, "and apparently there's a last minute business dinner that's rather important for him-"

"You can drop Grace off at the bakery whenever you need, I can drive her to school tomorrow morning," Danny interrupts her, uninterested in hearing the full story.

"Oh," she pauses, and there are some noises in the background. "Well, alright, thank you. I'll drop her off in about an hour if that's alright." There's another pause, and Danny's knee is throbbing as he walks over to the stool by the farthest counter. "I- Danny, are you alright?" 

Rachel's voice had come out softer than usual, and Danny sighs. "Yeah, I'm just tired," he mumbles, but he knows it's not convincing the woman he once shared a home with. 

"Just tired?"

He doesn't speak for a moment, unsure what line he may cross if he let a wall down. "I don't know," he admits, "just frustrated about work and stuff."

"Well, something must be wrong if you haven't got anything to say, Daniel Williams," Rachel deadpans, and even Danny chuckled at that. "I'm sure seeing Grace will cheer you up a bit, though," she offers, and damn if she doesn't know Danny, then no one does.

"I'll see you soon," he acquiesces, and they exchange goodbyes. He puts down his phone in front of him and gets up, unsure what to do with himself.

Sometimes Danny wishes he was still a detective. The feeling creeps up on him at the oddest of times, shaking him with bloodied fists, reminding him of the life he once had. Sometimes he wishes he was still a detective, because standing in the middle of his bakery kitchen, sweat building up on his forehead, hands balled up tight at his sides, he could tear apart a mountain. And that anger, the misplaced anger that always slinked its way into Danny's veins, that built up from a scintilla, a damn flick of a lighter a hundred miles away-- that anger, he could tear apart a mountain with it. But he wasn't a detective anymore, he couldn't just rebel against the world by taking down the people who made it a shitty place. So Danny quietly rages. He gets angry, he rants and he rambles on, sometimes to Kalena and mostly to Steve and Kono, he groused and shook his fist at the world and they let him because they all knew who he was. But sometimes, when Danny felt slightly unbalanced, when he least saw it coming, on a random Monday afternoon or after a fifth beer late at night at a bar with his friends, this pure, unsullied rage knocked him off his feet, indisputable and surreptitious. He stayed silent. Danny stays silent, yes, but he quietly rages against the world, against anything that pokes at him, against anything that attempts to stoke the fire that burned in the depths of his belly. It was ephemeral, yes, acutely fugacious, frustratingly so, but Danny was not a detective anymore. 

Rachel had once called him a capricious bastard, but Danny knew that he couldn't be capricious. As much as this rage snuck up on him, it was always there. He never changed, never stopped being angry; the fire simply stirred and burned brighter, harder, mightier at times when Danny least expected it. And maybe he was a bastard, Rachel had that part right.

Sometimes Danny wishes he was still a detective, yes, but not because being a baker was prosaic-- it wasn't actually, it was viable and complex, and it didn't get Danny killed. Sometimes Danny wishes he was still a detective, even a damn beat cop, because it was so easy to be angry, because he had every reason to be angry when he saw the things he saw every day. Sometimes Danny wishes he was still a detective, but he was a baker, and that was all. 

***

"Danno!"

Danny heard his daughter's footsteps hit the wooden floors of his shop, the backpack on her back bouncing with each step she took, keychains jingling and books shaking around. He walked out of the kitchen, past the cash register and bakery case, meeting his daughter in the middle. Her pigtails bounced as she took the last few steps to Danny, and wrapped her arms around his torso.

"Hey monkey," he gushed, all of the anger from the past hour quickly dissipating as his daughter pulled away and shouldered off her backpack. 

His ex-wife glides into his bakery, smiling softly at the sight of their daughter rummaging through her backpack. "Hello, Daniel," she greets him. Rachel stood near the door, arms crossed over her chest. "Thank you for doing this, I know it's rather last minute," she admits.

"Please, you're acting as if I'm doing you a favor, Rach," Danny says, "but it's the other way around." Grace hands him a plastic bag, "and besides, I'd give anything to spend an extra day with my girl," he smiles. 

"Mom took me to the store to get new markers and crayons, and even glitter!" she exclaims as Danny peaks at the bag's contents. "I wanna make posters for Uncle Steve and Kono this weekend, for the competition," she explains.

"Oh," Danny answers, looking at Rachel, who shrugs and walks over to where their daughter is bouncing on her feet. "That's a great idea, Gracie, I'm sure they would love that."

"Alright, pet," Rachel says, and kisses the top of Grace's head. "I'll see you tomorrow after school, okay?"

"Yeah, love you," Grace answers, and pulls her mother into a quick hug. Rachel kisses her again, and waves goodbye to the two of them as she walks out the door. "Danno, we need to get posters," she informs him.

"Of course, monkey, but I have a few things I need to do here before we can do that," Danny responds, "would you like to be my helper?"

Grace's face lights up, and Danny laughs at how she marches right into the kitchen, grabs the same apron that Steve had used the other night, and puts it on. "I'll take that as a yes," Danny chirps and follows suit. "You can't eat all the chocolate chips this time, Gracie," he adds, and the look on his daughter's face tells him that he's going to have to stock up on more chocolate chips after today. 

"Danno," Grace quips a few hours later as she poured the almond extract into the mixing bowl. "Is this really going to be able to last for the entire week?" she asks, pointing at what was the last mixture they were making for the day. They had already mixed and poured two batches of brownies, and were onto the batch of blondies (Grace's personal favorite) that Danny needed for the next day.

"Good question, Grace," Danny remarks, and pours more almond extract into the teaspoon in Grace's hand. "No, this makes about thirty-six bars, which only lasts three days at most. I'll probably make more of these on Wednesday or Thursday with Kalena," he informed her as he measured out three teaspoons of vanilla and poured them in the bowl.

"But what happens when I eat all of this?" Grace asks with a smile plastered on her face, and Danny rolls his eyes.

"Go grab a new bag of flour, please," Danny directs her, and watches her walk over to the farther counter and lugs a bag off the table. "And, if you ate all of this, I would have to make another batter," he says, and adds a "thank you" when Grace hands him the bag of flour. "But, I'd probably be too busy taking care of you to make more, since you would definitely have a stomachache, monkey," he chatted, and Grace giggles.

"I'm gonna try anyways," she counters and attempts to sneak a handful of chocolate chips. Danny pretends not to see as she stuffs the chocolate chips in her mouth. "And the stomachache will be worth it!" she resounds, mouth still full of chocolate.

"Mhm," Danny hums, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he measures out the two cups of flour he needs. "Here," he gives the measuring cup to Grace, "pour this in there," he points to the mixing bowl. "Perfect!" he smiles as his daughter empties out the cup in the bowl. "Good, now, all we have to do is add the chocolate chips and the coconut," he continues and starts measuring out a cup and half of dark chocolate chips in the same measuring cup.

"Danno," his daughter grabs a few more chocolate chips from the bag in his hand, "aren't you excited to see Kono and Uncle Steve surf on Sunday?"

"Well, yeah," he answers, giving her a look as she ventures to grab yet another handful of chocolate chips, "you're gonna get a stomachache, Grace," he gently scolds her. "We always see Uncle Steve and Kono surf, though," he adds, handing the cup to Grace for her to pour.

"Yeah, but we get to see them do cool tricks and stuff," she clarifies, and empties the cup into the mixture. "This isn't the same as when we have a day at the beach, you know?"

Danny walks over to the cabinet over the sink and opens it up, grabbing the container of shredded coconut flakes he had toasted a few days before. "That's fair," he concurs, and walks back over to the counter. Grace was standing on her stepstool, patiently waiting as her father poured the last ingredient in the measuring cup for her. "I am excited to see them surf, and I'm sure they're going to be so happy when they see the signs we're gonna make for them," he adds, and hands the cup over to his daughter, who takes it from him and swiftly pours it in the mixture. 

"Are we finished?" Grace asks, peeking into the bowl. "I'm so hungry," she whines, furrowing her brows and pouting her lips at her father. 

"We're almost done, love," Danny reassures her, and turns on the mixer. "All we have to do is let this mix for two minutes, and then we pour it in the pan and let it bake for twenty-three minutes," he explains, talking over the machine.

"And that's it?" Grace brightens up, and Danny chuckles and kisses the top of her head. "We can go home?"

"Yes, monkey, we just have to clean up and stick all the stuff we made in the fridge," he concludes, and his daughter drops her head as he points out the pile of dishes in the sink that needed to be washed. "Luckily for you, you don't have to wash the dishes."

"If you want I can sing for you while you wash the dishes," Grace offers, and hops down the stepstool. 

"Sure, I would love that," Danny approves, cringing at what he knows future Danny is going to regret, considering his daughter was currently only listening to Justin Bieber and One Direction, like every eleven-year-old girl.

"Okay, I'll start now. This song is my favorite, it's called 'Live While We're Young,' Danno," and Danny needs to remind himself that he loves his daughter very much, no matter what.

***

Danny and Grace had left the bakery, a brownie in both their hands, and headed straight to a dollar store to pick up two big poster papers, and then to the supermarket to pick up some much-needed groceries. Grace had spent fifteen minutes of the food shopping excursion trying to convince Danny that marshmallows and gummy-bears were part of the necessary things that he apparently needed. She was relentless in her nagging, but Danny only let her get one because he refused to be "the worst dad ever," according to Grace. 

When they had gotten to his apartment, she laid out the posters, markers, crayons, glitter, and glue on the table under some newspaper, washed her hands (only after Danny reminded her to) and started working on the posters as Danny started dinner.

"Wait," Danny stops her as she opens up the pack of markers, "you still have to do two more things, monkey." Grace looks up at her father, who stood with his hands on hips. "First, you gotta show me your homework pad so I can make sure that you finished everything before your mom dropped you off."

Grace makes a face, but gets her backpack and pulls out her homework pad and presents it to her father. He flips to the page with the date on it and skims the page. "You did the math page that Miss Heinle assigned?"

"Yes," she answers, clearly impatient, "and I did the social studies work page, too." 

"Okay, good job, monkey," Danny nods. "Second, I don't want you to get your shirt dirty with all that glitter, so would it be okay if I gave you one of my shirts to wear?" 

His daughter giggles when Danny returns with an old-ish undershirt, and gets up and dances around after he slips it over her head. "Look, now I'm you!" she exclaims and makes a grumpy face and puts her hands on her hips dramatically. 

"Wow," he huffs out a laugh, "you are really givin' Uncle Steve a run for his money with that impression." Grace laughs and dances around for another moment, and then promptly goes back to her seat and picks up a marker, getting straight to work.

Danny continues to bustle around the kitchen, pouring a pack of gnocchi in a pot of boiling water. He turns to check on his daughter, who is humming softly as she grabs another marker. Danny pulls his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera, and snaps a picture. He opens it up and sees his daughter with her brows furrowed as she drew on the poster, all of her supplies scattered across the table. She looked ridiculously tiny in the t-shirt he gave her, and he chuckled as he forwarded the picture over to Kono, who quickly responded with a 'omg i love her!!!!' He sends a heart emoji back to her, and then opens up his messages with Steve. 

He clicks on the picture and captions it 'monkey's makin u and kono posters for the competition on sunday' and sends it to Steve with a click. Danny puts his phone on the counter and stirs the pasta, and checks on the sauce he was warming up in the pot next to it. He adds some salt to the sauce, and turns to quickly check on Grace, who was now scribbling carefully with a red crayon. His phone dings and lights up with a message from Steve that reads: 'Is she kidding? She's too adorable, give her a big kiss for me.' Danny smiles at the text, and without hesitating, slides the message and clicks on Steve's name to call him.

"Hey Danny," Steve picks up the call after two seconds. 

"Hey, goof," he replies warmly, mixing the pasta around again. "I'm currently with your biggest fan," he chirps, and Grace's head pops up.

"Is that Uncle Steve?" she asks, and puts the marker down and practically flies over to where Danny was standing.

"Woah, woah, monkey, you're right near the stove, be careful," Danny chides her, and steadies her as she grabs the phone from his hand.

"Hi Uncle Steve!" she exclaims into the phone, and pauses as Steve talks on the other line, presumably thanking her for the posters she was making for them. "Yeah, I'm making one for you and one for Kono," she explains, walking over to the table where all of her stuff was. "Of course I did my homework, Danno wouldn't let me unless I did. I also helped him at the bakery today," she chatted on, smiling at something that Steve says. "We made brownies and blondies."

Danny turns back to the stove, stirring around the sauce and checking the pasta, giving it a quick mix. 

"Oh, Uncle Steve, can we go surfing on Saturday? Please?" she adds, and Danny turns and to face the table. 

"Monkey, I'm sure that Steve has to practice-"

"Yay! Thank you, and don't worry, I'm gonna make Danno surf with us again," she smiles up at her father, "bye, Uncle Steve, love you!" She hands the phone over to her father, and waltzes back to the table, happily continuing to draw.

"Really, Steve?"

"I can't say no to her, Danno," Steve chuckles, and Danny's chest lurches at the softness in his best friend's voice.

"That makes two of us," Danny replies with a smile and turns the fire off for the pasta. He moves the pot over to the sink, phone pressed in between his shoulder and face. "You really don't have to, if you're too busy."

"Nah," Steve brushes him off, "we'll make a day of it," he insists, and then starts talking about his day at the shop. Danny laughs as he strains the pasta.

And the anger that had so overtaken Danny earlier that day was subdued by his daughter's presence and his best friend's soothing voice over the phone as he stood in his small, ridiculously warm kitchen in Hawaii. And Danny was okay, he really truly was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is: sgrplusjbb
> 
> leave comments, kudos, and bookmark it if you havent!! it really does help and motivate me because im that bitch, u feel??
> 
> next chapter will be up..... idk when, probably sometime soon but i cant say for sure because once again, im that bitch. i know that steve wasn't in this so much, but you'll see ur boi soon, do not worry pals.
> 
> (also if anyone wants to talk about the fucking shit-fest of tears that was 9x10 pls don't hesitate bc i am..... confusion, as well as very sad and angry????)


	3. it was warm in the night, i was cold as a stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I have kissed honey lips_   
>  _Felt the healing in her fingertips_   
>  _It burned like fire_   
>  _This burning desire_
> 
> _I have spoke with the tongue of angels_  
>  _I have held the hand of a devil_  
>  _It was warm in the night_  
>  _I was cold as a stone_
> 
> **But I still haven't found, what I'm looking for**  
>     
> U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y'all, im....,.... so sick of looking at this chapter lol. i've been writing it for awhile. it is on the longer side compared to the other chapters, but i didn't want to split it up into two, so this just be aware of that. this chapter is slightly different than the others, so just read carefully because it kind of goes back and forth between the present and the past. i tried to make it as clear as possible but yeah, i aint perfect.
> 
> anyways, translations are in the end notes. enjoy, leave kudos and comments because i crave validation, thanks!!!

### Chapter 3: it was warm in the night, i was cold as a stone

The ache in Danny's back increased as he bent down and grabbed another box of bags of flour. He heaves it onto the counter and tears open the plastic that encased them together, and grabs a bag, fingers gripping the flaps on either side. 

"No, I'm no- I'm not saying that she'll get hurt," he turns to Kalena, who takes the flour from his hand. It was after hours at the bakery, and he and Kalena had already closed a few hours before. He had sent home the regular assistant, Adelaide, for the day, and it was just him and Kalena. They were making-- like Danny predicted a few days before -- more blondies, and he was exhausted. He starts walking over to the fridge and pulls the handle with a sharp tug. "I've just seen enough dangerous stunts from both Kono and Steve, and," he walks into the fridge and grabs a carton of raspberries from the crate, and more chocolate chips, "it's not that I don't trust them to teach my daughter--"

"You're just afraid, I get it," Kalena reassures him from the kitchen.

Danny walks out of the fridge, closing the door with a swing of his foot. "It's not that I'm afraid, I just don't get how everyone is so lax about it all," Danny admits and hands the bag of chocolate chips to Kalena. "I trust Steve and Kono, I just, uh... get freaked out, you know?"

"Brah, we grew up here, and Grace is growing up here, too," Kalena points out as she unclips the bag and starts pouring the chocolate chips in the measuring cup on the counter in front of her. "It's different when you're from the mainland or somethin', you know?"

"Yeah," he responds, and carelessly flings the carton of raspberries on the table. "It's just, uh, I don't trust the water, no matter what," his voice cracks for a moment, and then he turns to get the shredded coconut from the pantry. 

"I get it, Danny," the voice Kalena uses is surprisingly soft, "but don't let it stop you- and Gracie- from enjoying it. Me, Kono, and Steve, we all grew up makai, you know? We were practically raised in the water." She takes the container of coconut from Danny and unscrews the cap. "I know you're worried about Sunday, but they know what they're doing- especially Steve."

"I'm not-"

"You are," Kalena insists, "and it's cool, I get it," she brushes him off as she scoops the shredded coconut into her measuring cup.

The front door of the bakery swings up, the bell jingling. "Hello?" a voice sing-songs, and Danny rolls his eyes as Kono glides into the kitchen and makes a ridiculous pose that distinctly reminds him of his own daughter. "Howzit, y'all?" Kono chirps, and Kalena cocks her head in amusement.

"Hey Kono," Kalena greets her in a soft voice as she dumps the shredded coconut into the mixing bowl, and Kono flashes a bright smile at her. 

"I've decided to grace you with my presence, you're both welcome," she presses a kiss into Danny's cheek and pulls up a stool on the other side of the table where they all stood, smack in the middle of the kitchen. "I've also decided to be nice and invite you to beer tonight, because, well, beer," she adds.

"Solid reasoning, Kalakaua," Danny remarks, which earns him a look from Kono. "Steve and Chin?"

"Steve's closing up and Chin's finishing up paperwork. Steve's picking Chin up, so they'll meet us there," Kono informs him, and picks up a few scattered chocolate chips from the table and tosses them in her mouth one-by-one. 

"How's the water? Haven't been in a while," Kalena asks Kono as she turns on the mixer.

"‘O ia mau nō, to be honest. This weekend is supposed to be killer though, so tomorrow the nalu should start pickin' up," Kono tells her. The shop must've been busy all day since Kono was slipping in and out of Hawaiian and Pidgin. 

"Great, can't wait to watch you both surf to your deaths," Danny murmurs, but a smile ghosts his lips.

"Oh, is someone worried about us?" Kono jests, leaning over to playfully punch his shoulder. 

Kalena gives Danny a look, who starts picking at the raspberries in the carton in front of him, popping one in his mouth. He grabs the container of shredded coconut. "I'm not worried about you two," Danny insists, and gets up as he tosses another raspberry in his mouth. "I'm more worried about what that animal, stupid-SEAL is gonna teach my daughter this weekend." He starts walking over to the sink, but Kalena is still giving Danny a distinct look, her eyebrows raised.

"I beg to differ," Kono retorts, pointing her finger in Danny's direction, and Kalena smirks. Danny turns away from them and flips the sink handle up, hot water spurts out of the faucet. 

"I'm not worried about you guys, you know what you're doing," Danny insists. His hands are occupied with a mixing bowl, which he was scrubbing down with a green sponge. "For your information, I'm worried about my daughter and certain influences on her youthful, oblivious mind," Danny continues, lifting a soapy, wet hand to wave around as he talks. "Certain influences that may corrupt her, lead her to think that a life of surfing is a long, safe life."

Danny can't see behind him, but he can safely assume that Kono is flipping a certain finger in his direction. He feels Kalena's eyes boring into his back. 

"Besides, I'm not worried," Danny continues, scraping off stubborn streaks of the vanilla lavender cupcake batter off the mixing bowl in his hand. "I have seen you two surf more than enough times."

"Surfing is not that dangerous, Danny," Kono exasperates from behind him. He hears Kalena bustling around the kitchen, the clinks of metal on metal contrasting the harsh stream of water in front of Danny. 

Danny rolls his eyes and adjusts the water temperature, fiddling with the handle. He knew he could've brought up the knee injury that had cost Kono her career, but he decided against it, having seen Kono get physical with her fair share of people. Danny wasn't in the mood for physical violence today.

"I mean," Kalena quips from the other side of the kitchen, "it makes sense that he's worried, especially about Steve." He hears Kono hum in agreement. "He always is."

The bowl slips out of Danny's hand and hits the bottom of the sink with a sharp clang, and Danny twitches as water splashes up at him leaving drops of water on his shirt. He turns around, hands still sudsy and soaked, his eyes squinted as a look of incredulity scrunches up his face. Kono's eyebrows are raised, mouth in the shape of an 'o' as she crosses her arms and leans against the counter behind her, waiting to see the scene play out. Kalena looks up at Danny from where she was crouched over in front of a lower drawer next to where Kono was standing, an empty plastic container in her hand. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Danny feels his face getting warm, knows that his face is turning pink. Kalena stands up and puts the container on the counter and looks over at Kono for a moment, and looks back at Danny, who was drying his hands on a towel hanging from a drawer handle. He's slightly turned away from them, avoiding their eyes. "I don't worry about you guys when you surf, I certainly don't need to worry about Steve. He's a grown man, really, Kalena, he can take care of himself," he's babbling and he knows it, and he knows that Kono and Kalena know it, too. 

He had been joking when he and Kalena had started talking, mostly. He worried about everything; he got it from his father, the ultimate worrier, who fretted over every little thing that he and his siblings had done when they were growing up. Hell, Danny grew up in New Jersey, and not the pretty parts by the shore. His mother was more sensible, teaching Danny and his siblings to cry from the pain of a scraped knee rather than the fear of the bump on the curb that got them there in the first place. But, Danny wasn't like his beloved mother, he was like his father. So what? He had every reason to be worried about the people in his life. Grace would always shake her head and say: 'Danno, you don't have to worry about me.' Danny would smile and kiss her cheeks, because what could he say to his daughter? What could he say, how could he put into words how he feels every time she walks away from him? The twist in his gut, the flicker of the flame in his stomach that pokes at him, clicking through the mental slideshow of all the things that could happen to her when he isn't around. 

So yes, Danny worries. He worries for his daughter, his Grace, most of all. But he worries about everything and everyone, and it often translated into anger, because anger is all Danny knows. He worries. He worries for Grace, and he worries for Rachel, of course, despite everything.

Danny remembers a few years back, less than a year after he had met Steve, Kono, and Chin, he had invited Steve to go to the park with him and Grace a few hours before he was meant to drop her off at Rachel and Stan. The weekend was almost over, and Grace had been grumpy about school the next day, about leaving her father to go back to her mother. She was frustrated, placated only temporarily by the shave ice that Steve had bought her. On that day, he felt like he was looking in a mirror as he looked at Grace, who was complaining about a boy in her class and her reading homework and how her mother wasn't letting her sleepover her friend Stephanie the next weekend. Even the balled fists made an appearance. She was swinging on the swing, her hands sticky from the quickly demolished shave ice, Steve pushing her as Danny leaned against the swing frame and watched the two of them. 

It had been a hard weekend for him and Grace; they had argued about something that Danny could no longer recall now. Their trip to the park was agreed to by Grace pending Steve's attendance, and when the sun started to set, she only became more cantankerous, tugging at Danny and Steve as they walked over to the former's car. Danny can still see it clearly in his mind, his daughter's bright pink Hannah Montana shirt and blue stained lips, her hair in a braid that had slowly fallen out throughout the day. He could still picture Steve's small smile and stupid cargo pants. His hair was longer then, slightly curling at the nape of his neck. 

When they had dropped Grace off, Danny remembers the hug that Steve had given Grace. He had gotten out of the car with Danny and engulfed her with his arms and brought her into his chest, and whispered something in her ear that had made her giggle for the first time in a while. Back then, he and Rachel could barely stand to be in the same room. Danny had dropped Grace off and practically sprinted back to the car, slamming the driver's door and dropping his head on the steering wheel, hands on either side. 

As Danny stands in the kitchen now, he can still feel the air in the car from the day, thick with silence, sticky from the heat with the setting sun leaving an ocherous radiance that, all together in that moment, made Danny feel like he was sinking into a jar of honey. He remembers the soft touch, the hand on his shoulder that had enticed him to lift his head and look at the only man who had made his daughter laugh that day. Danny could see it now, in the kitchen, as if it was right in front of him; the look, the soft smile and bright eyes that stared at him. Steve had been leaning back in the seat, his shirt slightly rumpled, his eyes a thousand different colors. He had looked right at Danny, his hand was solid on Danny's shoulder, and said, 'you're a good father, Danny.' He swears he can still hear the words coming from Steve's mouth because that had been the first time anyone had said that to him since he and Rachel had separated. 

At this point his hands are dry, but he keeps rubbing the towel into them rather harshly. 

"Oh, I always thought..." Kalena pauses, hesitating for a moment.

"What?" Danny inquires, hand on his hip.

"No it's just, I always assumed that you and Steve were... you know, dating," Kalena admits, her face turning as pink as the flowers on her shirt. Danny's face falls, and Kono is wheezing from laughter, giggling as Kalena guiltily cracks a smile.

"Wha- why would you think that?" Danny sputters out, and Kono titters, holding her hand over her mouth. 

"I mean, he texted me the other morning and told me you would be sleeping in," Kalena starts, and Danny's face is burning as Kono's eyes widen, her hand still over her mouth. "And he dropped you off with lunch, and texted me the whole day, making sure I made you eat. Plus, I think he even texted Adelaide," she continues. "And," she adds, "besides for Grace and the bakery, he's pretty much the only thing you talk about."

"Ka- Kalena, you've known me for three and a half years--"

"Well, I didn't think you guys were dating the whole time, since Steve had been dating that woman--"

"Catherine," Kono interjects, and Danny shoots her a look, and she backs down.

"--but after a while, I just assumed," Kalena continues. "Besides, it's not like you gave me a reason to believe otherwise since you never mention anyone you've dated," she shrugs, "no offense," she adds. 

"Well, we're not dating," Danny informs her with a tone of finality, his face still burning hot. He turns back around and shoves his hands in the sink, scrubbing the same mixing bowl with the same green sponge. "And I'm not worried, Steve's a big boy, I know he can handle himself," he can't help but add, and he hears Kono snigger. The look he flashes in her direction sobers her, and she purses her lips together.

"Can anybody tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do with an entire crate of raspberries?" Danny asks later on. He's wiping down the middle table as Kalena and Kono sat on stools chatting.

"Aren't you supposed to be a baker?" Kalena asks rhetorically. 

"Why the hell do you have so many raspberries in the first place?" Kono asks at the same time, sporting an eyebrow raise paired with a smirk. 

Danny huffs and throws the towel down on the table, already feeling a rant bubbling. "Because my idiot supplier apparently does not know the difference between a blackberry and a raspberry, and I wasn't going to wait to get raspberries, right? Turns out I could've waited because he said that he had someone to deliver them yesterday, but stupid me, I thought, uh, I would've figured something out by then," he effuses. 

Kalena has her elbow propped on the table, her chin in her hand as she stares at Danny with wide eyes. 

"And yes, while I am a baker, I also am a businessman," Danny adds, waving his hand in a circle above his head. "I have customers who rely on me to supply them with a consistent menu, and if I don't have consistent ingredients, then how the fuck can I run a business?" He picks up the towel and wipes down the last corner of the table.

Kono rubs her eyes and she looks at Kalena and then back at Danny. "You need alcohol," she deadpans, and Kalena nods her head in agreement. 

As Danny finishes up cleaning, Kono and Kalena went on talking about their high school experiences; they had learned early on in their friendship that they had gone to high school together, but never crossed paths. Danny, being ultimately uninterested in a conversation that he couldn't relate to, let his mind wander back to that memory.

He recalls that Steve had insisted they go back to his place and drink a beer; nothing out of the ordinary, even now. It had been an awfully quiet affair, both of them had sat on the same couch, respectively sipping their beers, the air between them hesitant and unfamiliar. Danny had almost resigned to a night of slightly uncomfortable silence, but then Steve started talking. Small things at first, yes, but he started talking about his childhood-- which Danny had then known little to nothing about. Steve just poured out everything he had never said, the stories about him and Mary and their childhood friends and high school and first kisses and Sunday night dinners with his mother and father. And Danny just listened. He sipped on his beer, commenting when he was supposed to, laughing when he was meant to, and offering a sympathetic arm pat or smile when needed. Steve told him about his mother, her caring eyes and her banana bread recipe and the books she used to read with her sparkly red reading glasses. He also told Danny about the car crash, how it broke his father; how John McGarrett couldn't handle the pain and take care of his children, shutting them out and shoving them off the island. Danny never knew. Steve had been on his third beer, his face flushed and eyes heavy-lidded, when he turned to Danny and put his hand on his shoulder. Danny remembers his heart beating in his chest, each beat running into another so that his ears rang. 'You're not like him, Danny, you would never give up on Grace like he gave up on us," Steve had almost-whispered, his nostrils flared and jaw set but eyes muted with the guilt of the words he let slip. 

And Danny hadn't known what to say, he just let Steve squeeze his shoulder and let the words soak in. When he drove home all those years ago, it had been well past midnight and lightly drizzling. Danny had smelled the fresh rain off the grass near his old apartment as he unlocked the door; the place had been chaotic with Grace's toys and clothes scattered everywhere. 

As Danny put the mixing bowls in the cupboard now, Kono and Kalena still chatting away, he could picture that night like it was yesterday. He remembers the unsettled feeling in his chest, like he should've done more than just let Steve sit there and pour his heart out, like he should've reached back to Steve like Steve was reaching out to him. But he didn't. Danny left Steve's house that night three years ago and he knew he should've turned around, he knew he should've done something to show Steve how much what he had said meant to him. He didn't.

Danny had thought things would be different between him and Steve after that night. He had sat in his lumpy, empty bed that night and didn't fall asleep for hours. The sun was coming up when he had finally fallen asleep, and when he woke up a few hours later, he decided he was going to talk to Steve again, tell him... something, he didn't know what. Now, Danny can think of a thousand things to say; but then, he slipped out of bed and got ready for a day of work, the Mondays back then spent almost entirely in the kitchen alone. He had gone home alone that night, his phone burned in his lap as he sat on his bed and stared at the contact information of his friend. He never called. 

Steve did, though, a few days later, his voice light and breezy, informing Danny that an old friend had come into town. And life went on. Cath was now there when the two men shared beers after work, more often than not. And Danny was okay, truly. He liked Cath, liked how Steve's shoulders were more relaxed with her around, his back muscles not tensed and his smile was looser then. And sure, Danny never said anything to Steve about that night, never told Steve that he was-- somehow, and it made absolutely no sense-- the cornerstone to his stability, along with Grace.

He never said anything to Steve until about a year after that night. He can't remember exactly when it had happened, but Cath and Steve had been a thing for a while when the surfer called him up on a Friday night, told him to come to his house with beer. Danny remembers sputtering into the phone, his 'Steven, you can't just command me to your side-' that was cut-off with a 'please, Danny,' from the other man, and well, Danny was never good at saying no to him, was he? He had driven over to Steve's house, two six-packs in the passenger seat, glass bottles clinking as he drove on the bumpier roads to his friend's house that night. And they had drunk, the bags under Steve's eyes deep and the lines on his tanned face smoothed over as Danny told him about his day and the weekend he was planning for Grace. It had almost felt like another night, like any other night between him and Steve.

"By the way," Kalena starts, twenty minutes later, "you should probably tell Adelaide that you and Steve aren't dating," she smirks as she turns to lock the front door. The sky was a deep orange with flecks of rose, clouds scattered in wisps like a painter had streaked it with a used paintbrush in desperation to allure the last of the paint that clung to its bristles off. 

"Jesus, her too?" Danny 

"Danny," Kono puts her hand on his shoulder, "I think you and Steve are the only ones who think you two aren't dating," she chuckles, and Kalena nods in agreement. Danny gives her a look, but she doesn't flinch.

"Well, shit," Danny concedes, and they go their separate ways, Danny in his car and the two younger women in Kono's car, both with a vanilla lavender cupcake in hand.

Hands on the steering wheel and air conditioner quietly rumbling along with the tireless, rhythmic engine, Danny nearly was transported to the night he was recalling. He could almost hear the packs of beer unsteadily clanging against one another. Faint and continuous, the sonances engulf Danny as he replays that night in his mind.

Things had been different then, around year after the day in the park with Grace. Things were different than they had been when Danny had fallen asleep as the sun came up the year before. Cath was constantly coming to Hawaii and leaving for periods of time, her and Steve never really official, but a year after that call, Danny considered the man taken, and he was pretty sure that everyone else did, too. Grace was a little older, even more in love with her Uncle Steve than she had been when he was pushing her on the swings that Sunday a year before. Danny and Rachel were courteous to one another, able to stand in the same room without one of them leaving in a mess of shouts. Danny and Steve's friendship at that time was more or less the same as it is now, he recalls. Beers, evenings out on the lanai, long days at the bakery, sand not-so-mysteriously appearing in parts of Danny's living space. Just, Cath was there sometimes. And it was fine, it was good, Danny guesses.

He remembers Steve sitting there, listening to Danny talk as he fiddled with the bottle in his hand. Danny had just kept talking, unsure what to do with the man sitting in front of him, and when Steve had finally spoken up, he explained to Danny that he and Cath got into a fight. 'She doesn't know where we stand, and she started yelling at me because I don't do anything to bring us closer, apparently,' Danny remembers him saying, and Steve sighed. Danny had offered him advice, told Steve to do something that would show her that he was serious about the relationship, that he was making an effort to bring them closer emotionally. As the night had gone on, they talked about other things, drank more beers like always, watched some football game on the television. Steve had moved on from his mood, his energy building back up with every sip of alcohol and bad play on the screen yelled at. But Danny remembers that he couldn't stop thinking about the fight that his friend and significant other had. So, he caved in. He had turned to Steve and asked him what had sparked the fight between him and Cath, and Steve's face softened, sobering up for a moment. 

'She found a picture of Mary in some drawer,' Steve had admitted to Danny.

'So?' Danny questioned him.

'So, I put all the pictures away when I came back home a few years ago,' Steve had explained. 'I never told her that I have a sister, and Mary hasn't visited since Cath started coming to Hawaii.'

'You never told her about your sister?' Danny had asked, incredulous. He could still picture Steve's guilty expression, his nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed. 'You told me all about your family, Steve. I mean, Jesus, I don't blame--'

'I never felt the need to tell her about my f--'

'You told me!' Danny had scoffed, but there hadn't been any anger in his words.

'Yeah,' Steve had interrupted Danny and took a sip of his beer, 'well, you're different,' he had replied.

Danny snapped out of the memory, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel as he stops at a red light, the last words echoing in his head. The red light washes over the whole car, the setting sun had left a dark blue sky in the wake of his flashback. 

'Yeah, well, you're different,' Steve had said to him, and the words were etched in his brain, in every molecule of every damn neuron, like a kid who carved his first love's initials with a pocket knife into his homeroom desk he sat at every day. And, yeah, Danny would never forget it. He couldn't forget it, because in the moment after Steve had said those words, that same love-ridden kid had used that same godforsaken pocket knife to flick the light switch in Danny's brain up, because dammit, he felt the same exact way as Steve did. He felt that way three years ago on the couch when Steve had told those stories of childhood, he felt that way when Steve was pushing the swing his daughter sat in at the park that same day, and he felt that way when Steve muttered those words to him after he swallowed the beer in his mouth two years ago. 

He felt that way now. Danny didn't know what it meant, had never sat and picked his brain apart as to find the meaning behind this notion of Steve being different than every other friend he had. Steve just... was. He was, is and will always be different in Danny's eyes, different than Kono, Chin, Kalena, and Adelaide. Because Danny has a list, a damned short list of people that were etched into his brain, and that list included Grace and Rachel, his parents and his siblings. And, for some dumb fucking reason that Danny cannot fathom to this damn day, Steve was etched onto that list very early on in their friendship. And that list? If you were on that list, that meant that you were someone that Danny perpetually worried about, dedicated almost all of his time caring about.

And that? That pissed Danny the fuck off, because what does that even mean? He didn't know, didn't want to know, and didn't think he would ever know, why his brain latched onto this state of worry when it comes to Steve. Whenever he tried to think about it, that stupid fire that burned in the depths of his belly would flicker, and so he pushed the inquiry away. Danny didn't understand it and didn't know what it meant, but he would always make damn sure that nobody knew of this tightrope that Danny couldn't balance on. So Danny shoved the rope in a closet in the back of mind and, rather than let someone see the rope, he insists that it's not there, that he doesn't worry about Steve as he worries for his daughter and his ex-wife and his family. 

Because, damn it, the worry that he has for his family is etched into his DNA, Danny was born with it and it would never fade. And even though they were no longer together, the worry that he felt for Rachel was faded, but could never be erased from every molecule. Some, but not all. And Grace? Oh, the astronomically abundant amount of emotions he felt for her were carved into every molecule, every cell, every organ, every muscle, every bone in Danny's body, and a substantial amount of it was portrayed as worry because of course he worried, he was a father. 

So, rather than let the world know what cards Danny was dealt this round, he denied everything. He denied and denied even more, because Danny cannot, for the life of him, explain why he couldn't keep his balance on the tightrope long enough to understand what it all meant. 

'Yeah, well, you're different' were the words that were etched into his brain, and that meant everything that Steve did, felt, wanted and needed, Danny desired to know about it. And he would deny that if you asked him, of course, because what the fuck does that mean, but it was true. So when Steve poured his heart out to him about his family, the worry that Danny perpetually felt for that short list of people oozed out of his pores, and Danny fiercely, with a scorching hot heat, wanted to protect Steve from feeling the hurt. And when Cath decided to leave for longer than she normally had a few months back or when she started increasingly leaving the island and coming back for shorter periods of times, Danny burned with anger, too. Steve had sat on the stool in the bakery kitchen and told him that Cath left, and wasn't coming back anytime soon for some unknown, classified reason, and Danny handed had him a fresh red velvet cupcake and said he was sorry, and invited him over for dinner with him and Grace the next night. But, Danny raged silently. 

Because if anyone saw the fire that burned deep within his belly at that moment, or at any given moment, then they would know that Danny couldn't balance on the tightrope, let alone cross it. 

Danny pulls into the parking lot of the Blue Luna Tavern and turns the engine off. Kono and Kalena had already parked and were both standing outside the car waiting for Danny. Kono was leaning against her car, listening intently to Kalena as she talked animatedly, hands waving around in the air. He took off his seatbelt and sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. The muscles in his back were tight, his hands were cramped and there was sweat building up on his back and neck. 

He opens his door and swings his legs over, pausing for a moment to take another deep breath before he stands up on the parking lot ground and stretches his arms above his head. Danny reaches back blindly and his hand hits the car door, which he pushes as he starts walking over to his friends two cars over. 

The air is sultry, humid despite the absence of the sun. Danny looks up above him at the sky, which was dusted with stars and scattered clouds. 

"Hey Danny," Kono acknowledges him, and Kalena turns around and smiles at him as he approaches. "Ready?"

"I'm so freakin' hungry," Kalena starts walking towards the door, Kono following suit. 

"Wait, just," Danny starts, darting in front of them with his hand out. "Can I just," he rambles, "I wanted to know--"

"Alright brah, breathe for a moment," Kono reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder, and Danny hadn't even noticed that his heart was pounding and he was out of breath for no reason. Her eyebrows are raised, her hesitant, lopsided smile greets Danny's eyes, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes. 

Danny pauses, and Kono lowers her hand from his shoulder. Kalena is looking at him, eyes wide with her bottom lip jutted out. She adjusts her floral shirt as he steadies himself, and Kono looks back at the younger girl before looking back at Danny.

"Okay," Kono hesitates, "go on."

"I know it was a joke, but could you maybe- just, don't bring up," Danny stutters, "it-it's just, I don't wa-want," he fumbles on his words. "It would just be weird- I think Steve--"

"We won't bring it up, Danny," Kalena assures him, and Kono nods her head knowingly, and Danny is so damn grateful for the two women, because they simply understood. By asking them to not say anything about Kalena (and Adelaide) thinking that he and Steve were a couple, Danny had let them peak in the closet and look at the useless, stupid, metaphorical tightrope. He stood in front of them just now and told them that it meant something to him, something that he didn't understand and wasn't ready to understand, but it was something. 

But then again, Danny thinks, they must have already thought something if they got it right away, no? Plus, Kono had said it herself; everyone already assumed or thought of him and Steve as a couple. Yet Kono and Kalena got it right away, pointedly not making a big deal about it despite it being a big fucking deal. 

Danny had broken an unspoken rule that he had forced upon himself, and that rule was: hey, don't fucking talk about That Thing, Danny. And sure, he hadn't really directly spoken about it, but he said that he didn't want to talk about it, and that, in itself, was talking about it, right? Right.

Danny's head was spinning.

"Thank you," he breathes out, and Kalena offers him a sympathetic look as she starts walking past him. Kono walks past him while she squeezes his shoulder, smiling gently and jerking her head in the door's direction, motioning for him to follow them. Danny nods his head, and Kono understands, catching up to Kalena and leaving him outside the bar alone.

Danny breathes out and looks up at the sky again. The sweat on his back and neck have dried out, and his whole body is shaking. He feels stupid, for a myriad of reasons, but mostly because he was literally freaking out for no reason. Whatever has transpired in the last few seconds, minutes, hours, doesn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things. It doesn't change anything, does it? Danny bites his lip and turns toward the door, slowly making his way to the bar. 

Nothing happened, and everything is fine, Danny tells himself as he opens the door. His breathing is steady by the time the door shuts behind him, and he spots the four of his friends at the table. Chin nods in his direction and smiles, and Steve turns, his back no longer facing Danny. His best friend waves and grins widely and Danny ambulates over to their regular table.

It's just like any other Thursday night, Danny thinks, nothing happened and everything is fine.

***

So, update: everything is not fine. The Blue Luna Tavern was apparently all the rage on this particular Thursday night. While Danny and his friends managed to snag their usual table, every other table, stool, chair, and corner was taken, as well. By the fourth round of drinks and second order of fries, each of the five of them had been hit on, pursued and bumped into at least two times (Kono was the outlier, though, and had an almost constant stream of men and women headed her way). 

Now, Danny and his friends were not a quiet group of people, per se. Once Danny had a few drinks in him, particularly drinks that were not just beer, he tended to get loud, handsy and surprisingly musical. Chin, on the other hand, could laugh up a storm with a single pint in his system, and his laugh is what you can call contagious. Steve, ever the stoic man, had an affinity for dancing and bad knock-knock jokes after a few drinks, but at this current time, he wasn't quite there yet. Kono could arm-wrestle you to death once she had a few drinks in her, and she flirted with everyone in her general vicinity. And Kalena, the poor girl, just wanted someone to love. So, yeah, not the quietest group of people in the bar that night.

But, Jesus Christ Almighty, somehow they were the sanest group in the entire damn place. Danny couldn't tell you where the hell all these crazy, drunk people had come from but had he been under 30 and not a parent, he would be partying it up with them until the next morning. And, while some of the drinkers tonight were most definitely tourists, a large group of them were locals.

Danny prides himself in being a good detective, even though he wasn't a detective and currently spent most of his days elbow-deep in flour and sugar. Even with a couple of drinks in him, he could hear snippets of conversations from all ends of the tavern, and some of the things he heard were not what you would call... legal, per se. But hey, it was not Danny's job, and Chin was intoxicated, and there was no proof anyways so all Danny could do is take another shot, sing Bon Jovi songs, and live his damn life.

"Hey, uh- hi, my friend was wondering if we could buy you a dri--"

"Oh, thank you, but I'm with my friends tonight," Kono replies sweetly and winks at the current pursuer, who walks away blushing. "Ah, I love being me, you know?" Kono grabs a single french fry and lets it dangle from her bottom lip. Danny lets out an involuntary giggle, and Kalena grabs the fry from Kono's mouth and tosses it in her mouth, earning her a dirty look from the other woman. 

"We know," Chin retorts dryly and snorts out a laugh, and Danny giggles again, poking Steve's stomach, which elicits a hand swat and a laugh from the former SEAL. "As I was sayin', I spoke to the idiot yesterday, and..."

"Stop," Steve moans, swatting Danny's hand away again as Chin tells his story to the rest of the table.

"No," Danny mimics his friend's tone and pinches his side instead, causing Steve to jump up. "You are a grown-ass man, Steven, and did y'know that I love botherin' you?" Danny asks, and Steve hits his hand away again and grabs his drink from the table.

Steve takes a sip of the rum and coke and swallows, "Geez, how drunk are you?" he asks, and Danny picks up his hand, which is blurrier than usual, along with everything else. He pinches his pointer and thumb together, leaving an inch of space in between them, and looks at Steve, whose eyebrows are raised in disbelief. "Really?"

Danny widens the space between his two fingers and giggles, and Steve laughs. He takes the two fingers and pinches the shot glass on the table in front of him, bringing it up to his lips and throwing it back, only to realize it was, in fact, empty. "Aw, no," Danny whines, and juts his bottom lip out to pout, and Steve rolls his eyes. "We need more drinks," he concludes, "because you're not drunk enough, Steve-O."

"I'll get them, Da--"

"No, no, Mr. Cheap-man," Danny waves his hand in Steve's face, "I got them, because I rock," he explains, and gets up from his seat, wobbling for a moment before finding his balance. Danny looks down and somehow, Steve's hands are on either side of his hips stabilizing him, which, okay, sure, that's fine. "I'm getting the next round," he informs the table.

"You are a God," Kono beams, and Kalena cheers and gives him a thumbs up, which makes Chin laugh. "We are a bunch of drunk idiots," she coos, and stretches her arms up, "I love alcohol," she continues, and Danny concludes that she is babbling, and also quite inebriated. 

He looks down to find Steve's hands still on both sides of his hips, so Danny takes his own hands and grabs Steve's and puts them on the surfer's face, patting them a few times as he says, "okay, okay, Mister, I'm going now."

Steve rolls his eyes and lowers his hands from where Danny placed them on his face, and Danny laughs as he walks away from the table. 

Danny's balance is off, his legs feel a bit like jelly as he lazily treads over to the bar, where a small but busy crowd has been forming as the night progressed. He approaches the bar, ears ringing from the dozens of people chattering and shouting above one another, vision blurred as he grips the end of the counter. 

"Hey," Danny flags down their regular bartender, a young local girl named Ali, "we're gonna order another round of drinks," he smiles at her and taps the table with his fingers. There's an assemblage of people completely surrounding him; he looks back to find his friends at their table, but can't see through the crowd.

"Sure, just," she gestures at the two people to the left of him, "give me a minute," she winks at him, and Danny smiles back. He leans against the bar, facing the crowd of people, humming a Bon Jovi song.

"Fuckin' haole," he hears from his right, and Danny stops humming and turns to see a big guy, even taller than Steve. He was clearly a local, and clearly offended by Danny's existence. "Y'think you could fuckin' cut through everyone else here, maha‘oi asshole," the guy raises his voice and takes a step closer to Danny, hovering over him.

Danny's vision is not at its peak performance level, but he could clearly see that this guy was pissed, and wasn't about to stop being pissed. "Listen," he starts, "I didn't even order the dr--"

"Kulikuli!" The local gets in his face, and as he shoves Danny, yells, "‘Ōpala fuckin' haole, you think you could ju--"

"Hey!" Danny hears, and he's still trying to register the shove, his back was throbbing where he'd been pushed into the bar. Danny looks up, his hair falling in his face, and sees a figure standing in between him and the angered local. "Back the hell up, c'mon," the man says, and for a moment Danny thinks it's Steve, but upon a closer look, Danny sees that the man is slightly taller, with darker skin and curly, dark hair. "Come on, back the fuck up," he holds his arm out, and the guy backs down. "I know this guy, he's got a local business."

Danny moves forward, unsure but intoxicated enough to not care. "You sure, Leo?" the bigger guy asks, eyeing Danny up and down, and Danny nods his head to confirm that yes, he did, in fact, own a business here on the islands. "Fine," the bigger man grumbles, and backs away, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 

"Jesus," Danny breathes out, and the man who Danny assumes to be Leo turns around to face him. "You didn't have t'do that, you know?" he insists, but he's grateful, nonetheless, for not having his ass kicked. 

Leo is facing him, and Danny sort of recognizes him. "You're welcome," he points out, and Danny rolls his eyes. "You're Danny, right?" he asks, and Danny takes another look at him. He's a lot taller than Danny, his skin is tanned, smooth under the dimmed bar lights that Danny passionately abhorred. Danny can see that the man has messy curls that fall onto his forehead, some wavy pieces framing his face.

"Uh," he pauses, then licks his lips, "yeah," is all he can say.

"I'm Leo," the taller man holds out his hand. "I recognize you, you own that bakery, right?" Danny nods his head twice and runs his hand through his hair, pushing back the pieces that had fallen out of place when he was shoved. "I've been a few times, my friend's sister Kalena works for you," Leo explains as the two of them shake hands.

"Oh, you know Kalena," Danny comments, finally finding his voice. "She's here with me," he informs the taller man, jabbing his thumb in general direction of their table.

Leo chuckles, "I know, I saw her here at the bar earlier," he tells Danny, and Danny just nods his head in return. "She's a good kid," he smiles, "I would tell ya to take good care of her, but I know tha' ya already do."

Danny laughs involuntarily this time, his head feels light. "Yeah, I do," he agrees. He's about to say something else when a high-pitched noise rings throughout the bar. He and Leo both look around, but then the local band starts playing, and nearly all of the people crowding at the bar start migrating towards the small stage on the other side of the bar, cheering loudly at the loud guitar riffs. "I've never seen this place so busy," Danny raises his voice to say.

"What?" Leo asks, his voice barely heard over the loud drumming and chattering.

"Oh," Danny stumbles for a moment as he leans over and stands on his tiptoes to reach near Leo's ear, his fingers on the taller man's shoulder. "I said that I don't think I've ever seen this place so busy," he repeats, and he smells the cologne that Leo is wearing, his white t-shirt brushing against Danny's chin, leaving Danny slightly light-headed.

Leo laughs and leans into Danny, his cheek brushing against Danny's hair for a moment. "I know, I don't usually come on Thursdays but this is crazier than any Friday or Saturday night tha' I've seen in a while," his voice is slightly hoarse as he responds in Danny's ear.

And listen, Danny isn't stupid. Intoxicated? Yes, very much so, and his blurry vision and lack of coherent and sound logic can support that point. But Danny isn't stupid, and he had been a detective, thank you very much. So Danny isn't stupid at all, and even his drunken self can readily conclude that this was, in fact, flirting; yes, Danny and Leo were flirting, and Danny was flirting back and Leo had very nice eyes and smelled really good. Even under the stupid dim lights, Danny could see that Leo has pretty eyes, and Danny has to suppress the unrestrained giggle that tries to slip out of his mouth.

You see, Danny might be older, he might be divorced with a daughter and an overworked baker, but Danny isn't stupid. He'd been flirted with and hit on, by guys and girls and everyone in between. Also, Danny has eyes; he could see clearly that Leo was a handsome individual, and Danny wasn't going to deny Leo the special experience of flirting with him. Danny went to college, he went to bars and he has lived his life. Sure, he was a little out of practice, but Danny could flirt up a storm- especially with alcohol in his system.

"Could I buy you a drink?" Leo's voice is in Danny's ear, buzzing through his body. "I mean," he leans back and looks at Danny with a cocky smile, "it's no snickerdoodle cookie, but alcohol is good."

"Yes," Danny laughs, his hand had found its way to Leo's arm, loosely hanging there as Leo looked at him. Danny nods his head, "alcohol is ve- good, very good," he stutters and runs his hand through his hair, mentally smacking himself because come on, Danny, you know how to flirt, you idiot, he tells himself. 

"I have t' agree with you there," Leo laughs, and then turns to face the bar, standing side by side with Danny. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Leo's torso, and wow, he smells really good, Danny thinks. "So, have you thought of a way to repay me for savin' your ass before?" Leo teases playfully and throws his arm over Danny's shoulder.

Danny makes a face, and he knows it's not attractive but as long as there's not a mirror around and Leo's still interested, Danny couldn't bring himself to care. "Saving me? I didn't need saving," Danny shrugs the man's arm off his shoulder, but he's smiling as he faces the bar, flagging Ali to see if she was done.

"Oh really?" Leo asks rhetorically and starts sliding his hand on Danny's waist. Damn, Danny thinks, he has really big hands. "Well, your face said otherwise, in my--"

"Hey, buddy, ever heard of personal space?" a voice barks from behind Danny, and even in his drunken state, Danny could feel Steve's eyes burning a hole into his back. Danny makes a fist and brings it to his forehead, mentally cursing himself for thinking any of this would last long.

Leo turns around, and at this point, Danny has no choice but to turn around, too. The crowd around them had dissipated, and the table where Danny and his friends were sitting at was in clear view. Danny couldn't see their faces, but judging by the way one of them-- Kono, maybe?-- was shaking their head, it seems that Steve had been the only one to misread the situation.

"Steve," Danny grumbles, and then repeats his name again louder to be heard over the music. "It's fine," he insists, and Leo's hands are off him and at least two feet of space are in between him and Danny.

Steve is standing in what Danny mentally called his 'Stupid-SEAL pose' and Danny just wants to roll his eyes to the end of the Earth. Jesus, Danny thinks, who died and made him my personal security guard?

"Danny," Leo starts, and Danny turns to the source of the voice. "I-I didn't know you were with someone, I--"

"I'm not with him," Danny intones, incredulous, "he's just being ridiculous," he insists and shoots Steve a look in order to get him to back the hell down.

"And you're drunk," Steve maintains as he hastens over to Danny's side and stands next to him. Leo is looking at the both of them, back and forth, and then settles his eyes on Danny. Danny lets out a breath and mentally thanks whatever bastard God is up in the sky for not making Steve get up and personal in Leo's face. Protective-Steve is annoying, Danny thinks, but not as annoying as violence-IS-the-answer Steve. "C'mon," he urges, looking at Danny, and his arm is pressed against Danny's as the surfer's hand brushes lightly cups Danny's elbow.

Leo starts backing away, and Danny lets out a groan. "Wait, ju- just one minute, okay?" he practically begs Leo, and Leo freezes in his place. Danny bites his lip, and he could feel Steve tensing up next to him. "Just give me a minute," he repeats to Leo, and Leo nods.

And before Danny screws it up even more, he grabs Steve's arm-- which had still been pressed against Danny's-- and yanks it in his direction as he starts marching away from the mess that Steve created. Steve lets out a yelp at the sudden tug, and then hurries along with Danny. They walk past Leo, and Danny does all that he can to avoid looking into his eyes because the situation was embarrassing enough as it is, already. 

The band is overwhelmingly loud as Danny drags Steve past the stage and pushes the door that leads to the hallway of bathrooms and storage rooms open. Only then does Danny let go of Steve's arm, shoving it away from him. The lights in the hallway are brighter, a blinding white that Danny takes a moment to adjust to. The music was muffled behind the door, and Steve just stands there and watches Danny as he leans against the wall and breathes, letting his eyes adjust and the anger bubble in his stomach.

"You stupid fuck--"

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" Steve has an incredulous look on his face, and Danny huffs out a breath before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning. "You disappeared for like ten minutes," Steve continues, and damn, had it really been ten minutes? "And the bar clears up and bam," Steve waves his hand like he's slicing through the air, "some idiot is feeling you up- and don't say it's fine, because I saw you push him away!" he concludes, jabbing his pointer in Danny's direction.

Steve crosses his arms, and Danny is seething, his head is pounding. Had it not been for the multiple drinks and like, three french fries, in his stomach, Danny would probably have punched Steve by now. "I don't- I don't even know where to start, you idiot," Danny runs his hand over his face. The door opens and the music gets louder, and a blonde girl walks in, mumbling an apology as she walks past them to get to the bathroom.

"First of all," Danny continues, "had there not been a crowd, you would've actually seen that Leo- that 'idiot' that you claim was 'feeling me up'-" Danny uses air-quotes, and Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, air-quotes, Steven, I dare you to stop me," he clenches his jaw as Steve huffs out a sigh. "That idiot," Danny continues, "had actually stopped some local from beatin' my ass because I'm a haole and I apparently cut the line," Danny explains, and Steve squints his eyes in disbelief. "He also happens to know me from the bakery, and he knows Kalena, too."

"Oh," is all Steve says, and he unfolds his arms, letting his arms hang by his sides.

"Yeah, 'oh,' you stupid animal," Danny barks and pushes off the wall. "Never mind the fact that I was in the middle of telling him that I don't need protection, and then you swoop in thinking you need to save the day. What about Kono? Or Kalena or Chin? How come they didn't deem it necessary to swoop in and save the poor haole, huh?" Danny gibs, and points at him. "Do I need to remind you--"

"Hey!" Steve disrupts him, "For your information," he starts, and Danny has to clench his fists to restrain himself from throwing punches. "Kono, Kalena, and Chin are all stupid-drunk- I mean, what? Did the four of you secretly meet up and decide to get ridiculously intoxicated tonight, or somethin'?" Danny squints his eyes and makes a face, and Steve bites his lip before continuing, "the three of them can't even tell left from right, and neither can you, apparently," he scoffs. 

"Well, for your information," Danny is directly in front of Steve, both of his pointer fingers up, "I was a detective for a decade before coming to this stupid island." Danny sees that Steve is about to open his mouth, "no, no, shut up, I'm not finished."

Steve closes his mouth and crosses his arms again, lips pursed. 

"If I was Cath," Danny starts, and Steve's starts talking, but the door opens again and another two people walk in, passing them quickly to go to the bathroom. "Shut up and listen," Danny demands, jabbing his pointer into Steve's chest. "If I was Cath," he repeats, pointing to himself using his other hand, and he sees Steve clench his jaw, "and some guy came up to me and started flirting, puttin' his hands on my shoulder or waist, would you have done the same thing?"

Steve pauses, licks his bottom lip as he furrows his eyebrows, and Danny lowers his arms to his sides, cocking one eyebrow up. "That's different," Steve starts, and Danny is ready to punch a wall.

"'Different'?" Danny squawks, and Steve opens his mouth to talk again, but Danny relents. "Fuckin'- are you kidding me right now? Different because you an' her were dating or because she's Naval Intelligence?" 

Steve's eyes are wide as he takes a step away from him. Serves him right, asshole, Danny thinks. "Neither of those things, Danny- I mean, you're drunk--"

"My being intoxicated doesn't negate the fact that I was a cop, and then a detective, and that I'm a grown man that, despite being drunk, can make decisions for himself," Danny explains, and the blonde girl zips past them to the door, letting it swing behind her. Danny steps back before rolling his eyes at Steve, who's standing with arms crossed once again, lips sealed tight and brows furrowed because of what Danny assumes is frustration; he knows Steve is trying to find the right thing to say. "Pal, you're my best friend, but I really don't need protection. I've told you this a thousand times."

Steve is still speechless as Danny walks past him and pushes the door open. The music is loud again, the song slower and bluesy. Danny walks past the stage and crowd of people, thinking for a moment that he's alone, but he can tell that Steve is a few steps behind him. Danny looks around trying to spot Leo, but to no avail. 

Danny saunters over to the table, his headache now fully-formed. Chin is still sitting in the same spot, his face flushed even in the dimness of the bar. Kalena is standing, swaying back and forth, and Kono is looking up at her from her seat, a goofy smile spread on her face.

"Do you know where Leo went?" Danny asks, and Kono taps on Kalena's shoulder. Kalena turns around and sees Danny, greeting him with a wide smile.

"Hi Danny!" she waves. "Oh! Leo had to go home, he said that he has work very early tomorrow morning," she explains, and takes a sip of water from the glass in her hand. "Oh, but he asked me for your number," she adds when Kono nudges her.

"Oh," Danny says, and he feels his face turning red. Chin is looking at Steve standing next to Danny, and Danny shifts awkwardly. "That's--"

"But I didn't give it to him," Kalena hurriedly adds, "I told him I'd ask ya first," she explains. She waits a moment, but no one says anything. "So many emotions today," she laments in a voice that's at least two octaves higher than usual. "First I learn that you and Steve aren't even da--"

The rest of her sentence is muffled because Kono shoots up from her seat and practically slaps her hand over Kalena's mouth, and both of them had their eyes wide open. 

"Okay," Chin interrupts with a loud voice, "that's enough alcohol for tonight," he decides and stands up from his seat as Kalena giggles, her mouth still covered by Kono's hand. 

"Danny and I aren't what?" Steve gruffly asks, still standing behind Danny, but everyone ignores him.

"I'm gonna go get another pitcher of water," Chin announces.

Kono takes the glass from Kalena's hand and shoves her in Chin's direction, and Kalena giggles as Chin steadies her by gripping onto both of her arms. "Take Chatterbox over there with you," Kono offers, and Chin nods and walks away with Kalena in front of him, guiding her with his hands still on her arms. "You two alright?" she inquires, and Danny curtly nods his head, his vision still slightly blurry but his thoughts no longer muddled by alcohol.

Danny hasn't looked Steve in the eye since they were in the hallway, but he knows that Steve has his infamous aneurysm face on, because he sees Kono's apprehensiveness as she sits back down in her chair and puts Kalena's glass down in front of her.

"Okay," she says doubtfully and leans back in her chair.

Danny just wants to go the fuck home and get in bed, but he knew that the chaos of ordering taxis and drunken insistings of 'I'm not drunk' (made mostly by Kalena) meant that he wouldn't be home at least another hour, so he sits back down in his seat, grabs a french fry and lets the rest of the night pan out. 

It's only later on as Steve practically shoves Kalena in the back of the taxi with the two cousins that he speaks to Danny again, offering him a ride home. Danny realizes as they stood outside and watched the taxi drive away that Steve had only ordered a single drink that night. There are unspoken words that Danny doesn't know how to approach, but this time Danny doesn't wait for the sun to come up when he gets into bed. Danny falls asleep with the clothes that he wore all day still on, and the last thought he has before sleep overtakes him is that he didn't even ask Kalena to give Leo his number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Blue Luna Tavern is a made-up place that I used a name-generator for lol.
> 
> Translations:  
> Makai- towards the water  
> ‘O ia mau nō- same as usual  
> Nalu- wave/surf  
> Haole- white/Caucasian, foreigner  
> Maha'oi- insolent, rude, brazen  
> Kulikuli- shut up, be quiet  
> 'Ōpala- garbage, trash


	4. readiness is near, we steer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One month down and it's in sight ___  
>  _Oh I'm guaranteed to lose my mind ___  
>  **It's dangerous to speak and sigh ******  
>  **You might know what I'm trying to hide ******
> 
> _So, from the cradle to quarter age ___  
>  _Oh I bought the book but didn't flip the page ___  
>  _Oh readiness is near, we steer_  
>  _As far away from the coming of days_
> 
> _So don't you worry_  
>  _You'll be my resolution_  
>  _Characters of no illusion_  
>  _You'll be my resolution_
> 
> Matt Corby's "Resolution"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ........... i have no excuses. i know its been three months pls don't yell at me im rly sorry but i had NO inspiration but this was also mostly written months ago, i just randomly felt inspired today so i finished it and im too lazy to re-read it so if it's not good don't hate me.

### Chapter 4: readiness is near, we steer

Something buzzes by Danny's head. No, not something, Danny realizes as he opens his eyes; it's his stupid phone, and it's six o'clock in the morning according to his alarm clock. 

Danny cranes his neck to confirm the time with his blurred eyes, stretching his arms over his head as he closes his eyes again. He feels around blindly for his phone and once it hits his hand, he brings it up to his face.

[Message from Kono 5:46 am:] hey u dumb fuck, pick me up and drive mE to tavern to get my car

[Message from Kono 6:01 am:] fine ill ask chin instedD since ur either ignoring my texts or sleeping i hatee u

He rolls his eyes and types out a response and then flings his phone on his pillow, rubbing his eyes. Danny's head is, of course, pounding ruthlessly, and no amount of aspirin could cure that. The sun is peeking out from his blinds, and Danny curses his drunken self for mixing beer with tequila shots and... a martini? Yes, a martini, Danny recalls, and his stomach twists at the thought of alcohol.

It takes Danny another moment to realize that Steve had driven him home, and that, like Kono, he had left his car at the Blue Luna Tavern. 

"Fuck," he grumbles and crawls out of bed. He grabs his phone from the pillow and clicks his last conversation, sighing before he clicks Kono's name and calls her. He waits a few moments and then hears a groan from the other line.

"What?" Kono barks and Danny winces at both the volume and the sheer crankiness in his friend's voice, rubbing two fingers into his temple. 

He pauses for a second, "I, uh, left my car there, too," he explains, his voice still rough from sleep. He's standing in the middle of his room, clothes from last night thoroughly rumpled and he can only assume that he does not smell good, either. He ducks his head and sniffs his armpit. Okay, safe assumption there, Danny thinks.

"Chin's still sleeping, I assume, and Kalena's out like a log on my couch," Kono explains, her voice still harsh but there's no bite in her tone. "I called Steve, he's the only one I know who's up at this ungodly hour by choice."

Danny hesitates for a moment. The way things were with Steve last night couldn't be explained as good, necessarily. Steve wasn't the talkative type in general, and usually relied on Danny to make up for the silence, but the car ride home was almost unbearable. Danny's headache had been worse than it was now, and he knew that Steve had known it, too, because the other man kept looking over, unsure what to say. The fact that Steve hadn't said anything to him about it is what alarmed Danny. 

It isn't like something like this hadn't happened before, Danny thinks. Steve had this tendency to be super over-protective of the people he cared about, and that included Danny. Steve rarely did this with any of the other people in their friend group, though. Kono and Chin could protect themselves, and Kalena was almost always with one of them (and Danny had no doubt that she could protect herself, too, especially considering that she was close with Kono). There were moments, of course, and even Danny had gotten involved once or twice when it came to Kono and Kalena, but generally, they could all hold their own. But, that's the thing; Danny could protect himself, too. Like he had pointed out to Steve last night multiple times, he had been a cop and then a detective, and a damned good one, too. Even with a bum knee, Danny could put up a fight, and Steve knew it, too. It pissed Danny off to no end, and at this point, he couldn't even count the number of times that he had to tell Steve to back the hell off or away. 

Jesus, if this was what Steve meant by Danny being 'different,' then Danny would like to not be different, thank you very much.

There had been that time that some asshole customer had bad-mouthed Danny in front of Steve and Chin, and even Chin got a little too intense for Danny's liking. But what Danny didn't understand is why the hell Steve had still been so tense when they sat in the car. Was it because Steve didn't like the idea of a guy flirting with him, Danny thinks. I mean, Danny continues, we have both had guys come up to us at one point or another, right? Honestly, it's too early for this shit and I don't care that much, Danny concludes. 

"Can't you just ask him for me?" Danny beseeches, and he is not whining, no he is not, no matter what anyone says.

"No, woman the fuck up and do it yourself," Kono responds, and Danny groans. "Bye, Danny," she concludes and hangs up before he can say anything. 

His phone buzzes before he can even start dialing Steve's number.

[Message from Adelaide Bovet 6:06 am:] hey danny! got some interesting texts from kalena last night, safe to assume u need me to open up?

Danny huffs out a laugh. Kalena is known for her drunken text messages, and they tended to be sappy and/or terrifying. On the rare, albeit few, occasions that both Danny and Kalena weren't available, Adelaide stepped up to open up, despite it not being in her job description at all. Danny needed to seriously thank whatever God that was up there, plus the state of Massachusetts, for Adelaide Bovet, because the twenty-year-old girl had seriously saved his ass more than a few times. Danny quickly types back, 'you are a godsend, addy, and pls remind me to give u a raise,' and laughs when Adelaide almost immediately types back, 'you got it boss :).'

Danny's still standing in the middle of his room, his knee starting to ache from the lack of movement and the pressure on the one leg. He clicks the phone app and lets his thumb linger for a second, and then quickly dials Steve's number and pushes the call button. 

Steve picks up not even five seconds later. "Danny? Is everything alright?" his voice his slightly tinny, but tinged with concern. Danny rolls his eyes because of course, Steve would assume something is wrong. To be fair, though, it is six o'clock in the morning.

"Yeah," Danny replies, "yeah, I, uh, I also left my car at the bar last night, and uh... Kono said that you're takin' her to get hers, so..." his voice drifts off, and there's silence on both ends of the call. Danny isn't quite sure what was supposed to happen at this moment, so all he could do is stand in the middle of the room and run his hand through his hair.

"Danny, are you asking me if I can take you to pick up your car, too?" Steve's voice rings in Danny's ear.

Danny scratches the back of his neck, and then his hand is hanging in the air and he's posed like he's holding a plate in his hand. "Uh, yes?" Danny answers, because had he not been clear? What was so confusing to Steve about what Danny had said?

"So I'm just clarifying," Steve starts, and Danny can practically hear the stupid smile on the surfer's face, "that was your brilliant way of asking me to do you a favor at six o'clock in the morning?"

"First of all, fuck you, I don't need you to remind me that I make stupid life decisions, okay?" Danny counters, and a feeling of relief spreads on through his chest, his heart isn't beating as fast. "Second of all, I know for a fact that you're awake every morning at ass o'clock, anyways, so spare me, please. And third of all," he continues, gabbing over Steve's chuckling, "I wouldn't be asking if you hadn't said yes to Kono already," he clarifies. 

"Wow," Steve chimes, "all these words even before a cup of coffee?" And how Steve knew that Danny hadn't had his coffee was beyond him, but Danny was too hungover and tired to bother. "That takes a special kind of person, you know that?"

"Once again," Danny adds, jutting his hip out to adjust his feet so the pressure from his knee is released, "I wouldn't be asking if you hadn't said yes to Kono."

There's a pause, and then Steve replies, "I would've said yes anyway."

Which is how Danny found himself in Steve's stupid truck twenty minutes later, freshly showered with a mug ('yes, a mug, Steven, not all of us have fancy cups for our coffee, okay? We can't all live a luxurious life') of coffee in his hand and Kono half asleep in the backseat. 

"Liven up, Kalakaua," Steve bellows, and Danny tries to chug all the coffee down as Steve starts driving because the man wasn't known for his safe and smooth driving, was he? "C'mon, we have beautiful weather today, the surf is gonna be great," Steve continues.

"Pupule asshole," Danny hears Kono mutter under her breath, and he's glad that Steve doesn't hear her insult. "Full offense, boss, but fuck you," Kono mumbles louder this time, and Danny turns and sees her stretched out across all of the backseats. Her long legs are bent and she has sunglasses over her eyes, her hair slightly tousled. 

"Ugh, thank God you're not my boss," Danny deadpans as he swallows the last of his coffee.

Steve looks over at Danny, and Danny really doesn't get it because seriously, they had all gotten like four hours of sleep, how could the man look that... good? Like, he looked normal- well, as normal as Steve McGarrett could possibly look. Danny knows that he himself looks like a mess, and rightly so, considering the alcohol consumed and the hours of sleep had. 

"Why? I think we'd work great together," Steve voices and Danny scoffs, licking the last of the coffee from his bottom lip. "Seriously, I think we would."

"I would kill you within the first hour," Danny retorts, shoving the empty mug in a cupholder as Steve makes a sharp turn. "Hey! Jesus, it's six in the morning, we're not in a goddamn car chase, you animal!" Danny implores, and he runs his hand through his drying hair. 

"I don't think you would, I think we'd work great together," Steve insists, ignoring Danny's chastising as he straightens out the steering wheel.

"No," Danny intones, "I would kill you within the first hour," he repeats.

"No--"

"Yes, he would," Kono chimes in from the backseat, "now please shut the fuck up and let me sleep."

Danny smirks, and Steve grumbles, and they both ignore Kono's pleads for silence. "Fine, maybe you'd kill me. But somehow I'd come back to life and then," he raises one hand and points in the air, "we'd work great together."

"Do you always have to insist on being right? Like seriously?"

"I'm don't always insist on being right--"

"Yes, you do."

"I just always am right," Steve concludes, and Kono groans from the back. "You might wanna give up on trying to sleep, Kono," he offers, and Danny bites his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the sight of the younger girl clambering slowly from her slack position to sit up, sunglasses falling off her face and t-shirt dropping off her shoulder.

"Yeah, I realized that when you opened your mouth this morning," Kono says flatly, and uses one hand to shove her hair out of her face while the other adjusts her shirt. "I hate you both."

"You know, Kalena would be showering us with compliments right now," Danny notes, and Steve hums in agreement as he stops at a red light.

"Well, Kalena is probably barfin' all over my couch right now, despite me putting the garbage right next to her in advance," Kono bites back, and Danny's stomach churns at the thought of that (because he had seen Kalena throw up more than enough times, and it was not pretty). "So maybe you'd prefer me over that, huh?"

Danny pauses and looks over at Steve, who was grimacing-- probably from the same thought as Danny -- as he started driving again. "Well played," he admits dryly, and even Kono smirks at that. 

"I'll see you in a bit," Steve says ten minutes later as he pulls into the parking spot next to Danny's car. He waves with a smug smile on his face as Kono slides out the door of the truck. She closes the door behind her, and Danny winces at the noise that reverberates throughout the car.

"Fuck off, boss," Kono replies with a sweet voice, and Danny watches her walk away as Steve chuckles.

"Bye Kono," Danny calls out, not raising his voice too loudly. Kono just waves her hand back in his general vicinity as she walked to her car, and well, Danny can't blame her for that. "She's gonna be a joy to work with today," Danny turns to Steve as he unbuckles his belt.

Steve makes a face, "she'll be fine by the time people really start showin' up," he insists. "Besides, I'm gonna let her go out on the water most of the day anyway. She asked me earlier this week to have time to practice today."  
Danny shoots Steve a look, and Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, she told me she was gonna be surfing most of today and said she would hurt me if I didn't let her."

"I figured," Danny says, and he opens the passenger door and grabs his mug, groaning as he slid down from his seat to solid ground. "I fuckin' hate this stupid truck."

Danny walks around to the driver's side, pausing at Steve's open window. 

"Kono's practicing all of today, but she's covering for me tomorrow so we have the whole day free," Steve points out, and Danny leans against the passenger side of his car.

"Oh," Danny replies, and Steve's eyebrow cocks up. "I wasn't sure we were still... okay, that's good."

"Wasn't sure what?" Steve asks, cutting the engine. He leans back in his seat, and Danny hesitates, unsure whether to bring up the night before.

"No, nothing," Danny says, but Steve gives him a pointed look. "I just, uh, wasn't sure if we were still on after your little, uh... animalistic, Neanderthal stunt you pulled last night." Steve starts to protest, but Danny relents, knowing that the only way to get this out in the open was to cover it up with their typical, bickering ways. "I mean, mama bear has to watch out for her cubs, right, babe? Maybe she needs a long nap after the attack, go into, uh, hibernation or something," Danny mocks him, gesturing with his hand, and Steve has his head back on his seat, looking up and smiling as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"What? Is anything I said even a little bit untrue, huh?" Danny pushes farther, cocking his head and gesturing openly with the empty mug in his hand. Steve doesn't answer, and Danny smiles widely. "We know that I'm always right."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Danno, meet up at my place," Steve ignores Danny's teasing, and Danny rolls his eyes as he walks around the front of his car to the driver's side. "And don't be late like last time, I actually have to practice, y'know?"

"Need me to bring lunch?" Danny asks as he opens the door to his car and pulls his key out of his right pocket. 

"No, just don't be late," Steve repeats and starts his own car's engine. "And for the record," he pauses, and Danny looks up at him from his car as he's about to slide in, "I'm always right." 

The smug smile on Steve's face is still there as he rolls up his window and starts pulling out of the parking spot, and Danny gives him the middle finger. "Animal," Danny grumbles and shoves the empty mug into his cupholder. 

It's almost seven o'clock, which means that he might actually make it to the bakery in time to help Adelaide open up and greet customers-- that is, if there's no traffic and Danny doesn't fall asleep while he drives. 

It was going to be a long day.

***

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Danny pulls over in front of his home. His eyes feel heavy with the weariness that tugged at them, urging him to close them in defeat. He pulls the switch at his left to roll the window up, his eyes blurring as he stares ahead at the road in front of his car. 

With the lack of a running engine and the absence of the hum of the refrigerator, Danny's ears rang. After they closed the store at a half an hour past three like they always did on Fridays, Danny sent Adelaide and Kalena-- who had been dropped off by Kono an hour after Danny had shown up at the bakery, and Danny pitied her and let her work in the back, baking all day as opposed to dealing with finicky, loud customers-- home, and cleaned the kitchen and front by himself. Having Grace this weekend meant that he wouldn't be working Saturday and Sunday, and Kalena and Adelaide always graciously gave up their weekends so that Danny could spend them with Grace. He still tried to stop by, help out for a few hours, but they usually pushed him out the door and Danny would complain, but he was always grateful. He always gave them off on Mondays, and sometimes even on Fridays, but he knew he fucked up big time today, drinking the night before and leaving his car at the bar. 

God, today had been a mess. Danny had completely forgotten that he had scheduled a call with a potential catering job in the middle of the day, and almost missed the call. The customers today were particularly picky, and coming in at a near-constant pace, to the point where even Adelaide was getting antsy when the clock struck three. When they finally had locked the door, he sent the two young women out the door without any preamble and told them he'd stop by the next morning to review what they needed for the weekend without him.

He unbuckles his seatbelt, grabs his keys, phone and the empty mug from the cupholder and slowly lets himself out of his car. The air was warm, the sun no longer glaring down on the island. The breeze around Danny was stronger than usual, blowing a strand of his hair in his face and he walks up to his front door and lets himself into his house.

Danny walks through the front door, he toes his shoes off and slides them over by the door and tosses his keys on the nearest table. He opens the light and walks into the kitchen, practically dragging his feet in exhaustion, and puts his empty mug in the sink. He leans against the kitchen counter and turns his phone on, rubbing one eye with his free hand. Rachel had texted him a few hours before, telling him to be by her house at eight the next morning to pick Grace up, and that she'd packed a few bathing suits for her for this weekend. He sent her back a quick text and told her to tell Grace to call him tonight at their usual time.

Danny looks up from his phone, staring at the wall ahead of him. His clothes felt dirty on him, the sweat that had built up from the day had long-since dried up, leaving behind a grimy sensation that was very much intensified by the hangover that lingered. The light from his phone screen dims, but he doesn't move from where he stands. 

"Are you okay?" Kalena had asked him earlier that day as he hung up from the phone call with the potential catering job. He had been standing by the backdoor, away from the noise in the front and the bustle of the kitchen. 

He had looked up from his phone then, scratching the back of his neck as he shoved his phone in his back pocket. "Shouldn't I be askin' you that question?" A playful smile that didn't reach his eyes wasn't going to convince Kalena, and he had known it. It had been the first time they had truly spoken since starting work that morning, and Danny's entire body was tense from stress. 

"I'm just hungover, not repressing bullshit," Kalena had pointed out, her tone not malicious but not without bite. "Sorry," she rushed over her words, and put down the spoon in her hand, running her hands over her face, "sorry," she repeats.

"It's... okay?" Danny had started walking to the door to the front of the store, but he kept his eyes on Kalena the whole time.

Kalena had just looked back at him, her eyes tired, red around the edges. Her hair was pulled back, her natural curls springing out from behind her in a ponytail, stray hairs framing her face. Her face was chalky, the dark from her eyelashes and eyebrows stark against the lack of blush in her face. "Just," she paused and rubbed her forehead with the front of her wrist. "I know I'm not Kono or Chin, and I'm certainly not Steve, but I...I am here if you ever want to talk, you know that, right?"

Danny had looked at her, at a loss, but he didn't say anything right away. He shifted his feet, taking the weight off of his bad knee, and lingered at the door. Kalena had looked at him for a moment, and then picked the spoon back up and went back to work. "Right." He had spoken after the moment had passed, but he knew she heard him. 

As Danny stands in his own kitchen now, he snaps out of the trance and turns around, facing the sink now. He stares down at the empty mug, a dirtied spoon, and an unwashed plate from the morning before. His phone is still in his hand. The screen is black, and Danny is tempted to turn it on.

'Repressing' had been the word she had used, Danny recalls again. Kalena had looked with him with soft eyes, perhaps out of depletion, but the downward curve of the corners of her mouth and the slight hunch in her back spoke of more. They remind Danny of his mother, how she had shown up to his house in New Jersey after Rachel and Grace had left all those years ago. 

Clara Williams had stood in the kitchen of his old house more than four years ago, a tray of lasagna in the oven as she cleaned the dishes that had accumulated in a messy pile in his old kitchen sink. That same hunch was in her back, the same look on her face with the same sorrowful eyes that could wage and end a war. Clara Williams was not a woman to be messed with, and she certainly had no interest in watching her son lose his daughter to a woman that had broken his heart time and time again. Danny was tired. Danny had been tired his whole life, though, and he couldn't stop now, his mother would not allow it. He had sat in a chair, lamely watching his mother clean up after her broken son. 

The house had felt haunted, empty without the two heartbeats that had left him alone. Danny shudders now, thinking about the nights alone in New Jersey after they had left. His moon was pulling towards a strange place, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to get up and let himself be tugged.

When they sat at the dining table that night, Danny hadn't been able to look her in the eye, couldn't face his mother in his despair. They had sat in silence, the sound of forks scraping against glass plates and swallowing hanging in the air. Minutes had crept by, and Danny felt the tension building up, unsurprised when the fork in his mother's hand had slammed down on the wooden dining table, the clink had rung in the air.

"What are you doing here?" 

Her voice was harsh. Danny still hadn't been able to look her in the eye. 

"No, Danny, look at me and tell me what the fuck you're still here for."

Danny had known what he was still doing there, knew why he couldn't bring himself to follow his daughter. Hawaii was a lifetime away, a foreign concept that Danny hadn't been able to wrap his mind around.

"You need to get up, fix yourself up, and go fight for your family," her voice rang out, and Danny finally had looked in her eyes. She wasn't emotional, no tears had welled in her eyes. "It's fucked up, and it's scary, and it's a life that you will have t' make for yourself and adjust to. But this isn't about you, or Rachel. She's broken your heart enough, but that little girl, your Gracie, has never brought an ounce of pain into your life."

He had looked at his mother, tears had built up in his eyes, but he refused to let them spill out-- not out of fear, or embarrassment, but because he had let his sadness cloud his mind for too long. 

"So don't do the same to her," his mother's words were still severe, her New Jersey accent strong but the words themselves even stronger. The softness in her eyes had told him that she had accepted his fate and that he needed too, as well. 

"What- what will I do with myself?" Danny had asked, and his mother had gotten up to collect both their plates. He, on the surface, had meant to ask about a job, what he would do to make money since his knee had prevented him from simply transferring to a Hawaiian police department. On the surface, that's what he had meant. 

She had paused at the entrance to the kitchen and looked back at him. "Whatever it takes to get your daughter back."

Danny puts his phone down next to the sink and breathes out, replaying those words in his head. He had taken his mother's advice, put his house on the market, and by the end of that month, he was on a plane to Hawaii. Now, four years later, his dishes were dirty and he had no energy to wash the three things in the sink, but Danny has his daughter, his Grace, his moon. 

Danny turns on the sink, the water trickles quietly as he squeezes soap onto the blue sponge in his hand. He takes the mug from the bottom of the sink and lets the warm water run over it. He scrubs, more than necessary, out of habit. Danny's eyes are drawn to his phone next to the sink, but he wasn't waiting for it to light up or buzz. 

He wants to call Kalena up, wants to ask her what she had meant. What was he repressing, what did she know about him that he didn't know? Neither of them had mentioned Leo, not the night before or the entire day today. Danny hadn't gotten a text from Leo, and he thinks it's safe to assume that he wouldn't be hearing from him any time soon. And he knows that this wasn't about the whole 'Leo being a dude' thing, because there had been an unspoken acknowledgment between the five of them a few years back. No one questioned anyone's choice of partner, whether it was dancing, flirting, dating, hooking up. It wasn't Don't Ask, Don't Tell, rather it was Don't Ask, Because It's Kind of Obvious and You'll Get Sexually Explicit Details That Will Scar You For At Least Two Weeks (Four, If It Was Kono). Steve and Chin hadn't really been part of this, considering Steve had been dating Cath for the most part, and Chin almost exclusively dated women. And it wasn't like Danny dated at all, really, but he likes to flirt, he likes being flirted with, enjoys the attention from everyone. The one time he had actually dated someone during the four years he had been living in Hawaii so far, it was Gabby, and that didn't work out. 

It's stupid, yes-- and Danny had gone to college, he experimented with everyone who was willing-- but Danny was, for the most part, more interested in long-term relationships. That's what he has always wanted, but after Rachel, he had kind of accepted the fact that he might not ever get another chance to do it over again, so he had the fun that he could have, but he never truly tried to replicate what he once had. What he lost, more than once. 

Maybe Kalena had meant he was repressing his desire to be in a relationship, but that's the thing: Danny knows he wants a relationship because he likes the idea of relationships, he likes companionship. Danny would never deny that, but he would never seek it, not like he used to. 

Maybe Kalena had meant that, and maybe Kalena meant something else. Danny wants to call, wants to ask her why she had looked at him the way his mother did all those years ago, why she offered to talk to him about whatever it was that he was repressing.

He finishes washing the plate and turns the water off, putting it on the rack to dry. 

It couldn't be about Leo, it couldn't be... well, Danny doesn't know. He wants to know. He doesn't call to ask. His phone is still sitting there, the screen is pathetically dark next to the sink. 

He dries his hands on his jeans and grabs his phone, turning it on and sliding to open it. He opens the phone app and doesn't hesitate to dial the first number that comes to his mind. Danny brings the phone up to his ear, waiting for Steve to pick up.

"Hey, Danny," Steve's voice is smooth when he picks up, despite them talking over the phone.

Danny doesn't answer for a moment, but Steve doesn't press further, waiting without question. "Hi."

"What's up, man?" Steve asks, and Danny's skin prickles as a sudden warmth overtakes the air. 

For a brief moment, Danny's mind flashes back to Kalena standing across from him in the kitchen earlier that day, her eyes telling him that she knew something he doesn't know- or rather, something that he doesn't want to tell himself, to admit to himself. For a brief moment, the machinery of his brain creaks as it works to unpack the lurch of his stomach and the warmth that spread from his neck down his arms and back and to his toes, the unsettling feeling of familiarity that left (and always left) Danny feeling overwhelmed and hungry for a more. For a brief moment, and just for a brief moment, he allows himself to close his eyes and breathe out and his chest aches as he realizes that his breath is ragged with instability. And that's it.

He stops the machinery in his brain that had-- in the few seconds that Danny had let the walls down-- swiftly cranked and churned, like the last step of a coin pressing machine, and Danny had stopped it right before the coin could fall into the small cup. It wasn't the time. It was furtive, like most things in life, but this... whatever it was, had been lurking in the corners of Danny's brain since, "well, you're different." And it was always evanescent, but this time Danny doesn't do much, since it's followed by his stomach rumbling painfully, loud enough that Danny swears his next-door neighbors could hear. 

"I'm hungry," he announces after a beat, coming out the fugacious, unnerving trance. Steve sniggers and Danny turns around to lean against the counter again, his balance unsteady. His stomach growls again, and he screws up his face when he realizes that he hadn't eaten all day. So he tells Steve just that. 

"I'm not gonna even bother actin' surprised," Steve responds dryly. And just like any other time, as if they're teenagers in college, with only homework and a part-time job to worry about, like exhaustion hadn't permanently seeped into their bones yet like they had their whole lives ahead of them, Steve just laughs. "Okay, I'll pick up some food and be over in half an hour."

"Nothin' with fruit, Steven, or I swear to--"

"Danny, you think I don't know by now? It wasn't funny the first time, it's not funny now--"

"I just have concerns, okay?" Danny teases, and he starts walking out of the kitchen to his room.

"Concerns?" Steve parrots, incredulous, "con- you know what, I'll see you in thirty minutes, and don't be surprised if I show up with just pineapples."

"You wouldn't," Danny feigns shock, and even Steve laughs, and they exchange goodbyes. His chest feels lighter.

"No fucking way," Steve shakes his head rapidly. The two men were sat at Danny's dinner table less than an hour later. 

"Yes, one hundred percent yes, are you kidding?" Danny throws his hands up, his eyebrows furrowed and his face scrunched up in disbelief. "I'm right, and you cannot tell me otherwise, I literally do not care what you think, Steve. I know for a fact that I'm right because I'm always right--"

"Oh shut up, buddy, you--"

"-- and you are wrong," Danny concludes, waving his pointer finger in Steve's direction, and Steve sits back in his chair, his mouth open in mock horror. "It's chickpeas!"

"No, it isn't, it's fava beans, Danny, and I know I'm right," Steve insists and pops a falafel ball in his mouth. "Google it, I'm right."

"No, fuck you, I'm right and Google is a bitch," Danny steals a falafel ball from Steve's plate. "It's chickpeas--"

"You literally have your own plate with food--"

"-- and I'm right about that, and also about kibbeh so--"

"I'm gonna look it up right now," Steve decides, and he pulls out his phone and starts typing. "And for the record, mushroom kibbeh is still better."

"No, it isn't, if you're gonna get kibbeh, you get meat kibbeh," Danny argues, and picks up his falafel sandwich and takes a bite. "Mushrooms are terrible, and should not be allowed near food, ever," he continues through a mouthful of falafel and pita.

Steve looks up from his phone, giving Danny a look of disgust as he chewed loudly. "And you call me the Neanderthal," he bites back. "Ha! I was... oh," Steve cocks his head down to the screen, and picks up his sandwich, "turns out we're both right." He takes a bite of his sandwich, and Danny leans over and grabs Steve's phone from his hand. 

"It says falafel can be made from both, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it's always both," Danny points out and slides Steve's phone back to him across the table. 

Steve swallows his food, "so you're saying that we're both wrong," he retorts. He takes his phone and shuts the screen off. 

"Fine, we're both right," Danny picks kibbeh from the tray and takes a bite, "but I'm right about the kibbeh thing, man."

Steve rolls his eyes, and Danny smirks at him as he finishes chewing his bite of food. 

The two men are sitting on Danny's couch a few hours later, a beer apiece, laughing from Steve's retelling of an interaction Kono had earlier that day with a particularly feisty soccer-mom of a customer. Tears are welling up in Danny's eyes as he laughs along with Steve, who is leaning forward as he talks.

"And," he pauses to snigger again, "and I shit you not, I saw her hand flinch with the goddamn board in it-"

"Oh my god," Danny breathes out a laugh.

"-and she was two seconds away from ending this woman's life, I promise you," Steve is laughing again, and he falls forward with his hand on chest. Danny's stomach hurts from the beer and the food and the laughter. "And," Steve picks himself up by pushing his left hand into Danny's knee, "after the mother walks away, and the kid looks Kono dead in the eye and fuckin' grins like a madman," he concludes, waving his other hand around.

Danny's laughing with Steve, but all he feels is Steve's hand pushing into his knee. Danny's stomach lurches, and he knows that this time, the pain isn't from the beer, food, or laughing too hard.

"I'm pretty sure Kono lost ten years of her life from the stress of not being able to talk back to the lady," Steve adds, and giggles again as he lifts himself up and takes his hand of Danny's knee. 

Yeah, Danny thinks, it's not the beer or the food this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pupule- crazy
> 
> pls pls write comments and stuff it's basically the only reason/way i'll even wanna write....... i crave validation. 
> 
> tumblr is mcdanhoe or my main is che-louis


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